


Fresh Start - Helmet Party

by captainbobbin



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Blowjobs, Early Days, Early in Canon, Emotionally Repressed, Fights, Frottage, M/M, Non-Canon character backstory, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Soldier doesn't realise hes queer, Soldier is on the autism spectrum, Work In Progress, Workplace Relationship, m/m - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2018-08-18 09:26:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 45,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8157259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainbobbin/pseuds/captainbobbin
Summary: My (first ever) take on a Helmet Party fic! Soldier recalls how he first joined the team and how much Engineer stood out to him. He still hasn't figured out why, however. Slow burner fic, eventual smut.





	1. How We Met

**Author's Note:**

> There's going to be smut in later chapters, and this is the first fic I've posted on here so please bear with me!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Gravity, it makes no sense to me, but it pulls me._  
>  _Just like you do._  
>  _The higher I am, the harder into ground I will slam. It will kill me. It’ll be messy._  
>  _Here I am, planted on the ground, and waiting, waiting for it to pull me._  
>  _If my logic isn’t sound, what’s keeping our feet on the ground? An equation, or special occasion?_  
>  _Don’t get me wrong, I’d rather be up in the clouds, but I’d worry, about coming down."_ \- SPG, The Pulls.

He supposed that they had been friends since they met.

Despite repetitive blows to the head and trips through respawn, he remembers it pretty clearly. At least, most of it.

It hadn't been too long ago. 1968. RED had designated him 'Soldier', and he wouldn't have it any other way. He had stood there at the edge of the desert and a small, backward town with his backpack ready and full of his possessions. He didn't have much; some of his beautifully won medals (that he had NOT made himself, don't trust what anyone says), his beloved shovel, a shotgun and some rounds, and a few rations he scrounged up from the town. He didn't exactly know how he was getting there - he had received a few reports and letters but, not that he'd ever admit it, he had trouble reading them for too long. But he understood he had to stand here, and at exactly 13:00 hours some transport would arrive.

He glanced at his watch. It was 14:37.

He huffed a little, scowling from under his helmet. The helmet was his own, and he'd be damned if these new employers would try to take it away. They hadn't given him any kind of uniform as of yet; he stood in the dust in an old camo jacket and a pair of rough jeans. At least he looked the part of a soldier.

"It's alright, shovel." He holstered his backpack a little as he grumbled, addressing his most trusted weapon. "We can wait."

From under his helmet in his far peripherals, a small dust cloud appeared. And it grew. And it grew.

Within a few moments, the cloud became a rusted truck and it trundled to a stop before him.

The driver-side door was booted open, and a stocky man hopped down in front of Soldier and stretched.

"Howdy." he smiled up at Soldier, not attempting to peer under his helmet as so many others tended to do. He seemed polite, at least.

"Y'all must be the Soldier! Well I reckon, anyway, you wouldn't be here if ya weren't."

He was a good head shorter than Solider, but broad with hidden muscle. Good.

"Sorry for the wait there, fella. Scout in the back there was busting for a piss, so we hadta make a little detour."

He was clean shaven, with clipped hair, and eyes hidden behind goggles. Good. Clever.

"Well you can come hop on in the front with me; you're the last stop, and the others are meetin' us at the base."

His accent was Texan, so obviously American. Very good. Soldier hadn't been listening to a word the short man was saying, eyes silently scanning the man before him. He too had not been issued a uniform yet either - he was clad in an old tartan shirt with the sleeves rolled up. As he gestured for Soldier to come into the cabin of the truck, the sunlight highlighted the dusting of blonde hair that speckled over his arms. He hid his eyes beneath his helmet as he climbed into the truck.

He glanced back, peering into the dimmer light of the back of the truck.

There sat a younger man - fairly tall, gangly, lean. He wore a baseball cap and gave a slight frown as he looked out the window.

Besides him was another figure. Despite the heat of the desert sun reaching perhaps ninety degrees Fahrenheit, he wore a thick gasmask and overcoat, no skin on show at all. Between them were several bags - two rucksacks similar to Soldiers own, a few toolboxes, a suitcase and, surprisingly to Soldier, a guitar-case.

The Soldier turned back around in his seat, saying nothing to the pair and instead looking at the road ahead as the short man next to him settled in his seat. The driver leant over and offered his hand.

"I'm gonna be the teams Engineer, so you can just call me that."

He glanced at him from the corner of his eyes before taking his hand. "I'm the Soldier." The Engineers handshake was firm and confident, welcoming. A small smile breached Soldiers usual frown. It was a good start to something that remained good.

The drive was long, and fairly peaceful besides the man in the back - whom to Soldier assumed was the Scout - periodically kicking the back of his chair to complain about the heat, or needing a drink or a rest, and one incident when Engineer sharply braked as some desert creature scurried in front of the truck.

It grumbled to an aching stop eventually, hours later, pulling through to a small town made of ramshackle wooden buildings and corner-stores, edged with a train track, to a large concrete base that seemed half sunk into the sand. The door of the base was blocked by several people and large crates, the other members of this new team having arrived not long before them.

The Soldier glanced at the Engineer as he gave a little huff as he turned the engine off, moving a hand to rub at the back of his neck.

"Ugh. Helluva drive, huh?"

"Ya tellin' me!" Barked from the back of the truck before the Scouts toothy face appeared between them. "It's gonna take for-fuckin'-ever ta get back home when we get a break! Jeez!" He then abruptly kicked the door open and stretched, not addressing the others that were lingering around the base doors.

The Soldier glanced at them from the corner of his eyes. Most were nearly as tall as he, some fairly broad. They looked strong, a hardy bunch, and he inwardly gave a little sigh of relief. He had always been a man's man, and if he was to work with these men for the next few years, day in and day out, fighting along with them, he would have to make friends.

Engineer glanced over at the other American, noticing his little frown as he watched the others.

"You okay there buddy? We should go stretch our legs, huh?" He gave him a little nudge, making him turn back to him.

"Uh. Yeah. It's been a long day, huh?" The Soldier gave the Engineer a tight smile. Being friendly wasn't his strong suit, but the stockier man seemed warm and genuine, and Soldier watched as he slipped out the door of the truck and leisurely strolled towards the rest of the team. Soldier noticed the gas-mask wearing man from the back quickly hopping out as he saw Engineer go, following behind the Texan.

He frowned a little, but stepped out too, marching briskly behind them and up to his awaiting teammates. It was a little hard to tell who was who without any kind of uniform, but Soldier supposed that was what talking was for.

The tallest man there was carrying crates easily and arranging them before another wearing a long, black coat. A few feet away stood a dark-skinned man wearing a skirt and eye patch; they seemed to have arrived via train, their belongings mingled within the storage crates. The Soldier stood to the side of them - where the trio could see him fully - and saluted.

"I am the Soldier, and I'm gonna be on your team."

Now he could see them properly, Soldier took in the sight of them, trying to ensure he could remember the faces to go with their names. The largest man put down the crate he was holding and stuck out an enormous hand.

"I am the Heavy Weapons Guy." Soldier took it and shook it firmly, eyes fixated on the giant. He was bald, stubbled a little, with bright blue eyes that seemed emotive. He wore fairly light clothing and some of the skin of his cheeks and forehead were tainted pink from the heat. "Will be good to fight on same team, da?" The man had a broad smile as he retracted his hand, and Soldier noted the odd tone of his voice as the Heavy moved to carry on rooting through the endless boxes.

The dark-skinned man turned to him next, grinning at him over the crates.

"I'll be yer Demoman, here." Soldier nodded towards him in acknowledgement - he had been told many times that his expression was unreadable at the best of times, let alone when his eyes could not be seen under his helmet. This didn't seem to deter the other man though. "I'll be the one incharge o' blowin' as much shit as possible up!" His grin was almost startlingly white against his ebony skin, but Soldier found it appealing, reassuring even, and gave a shaky grin back, despite this man also having a strange tone of voice. His hair was curly and not too long, his left eye covered by a patch. Soldier knew better than to ask about that, but the Demoman seemed quite open and relaxed, walking around in that skirt of his. Soldier tried not to look down at the other mans legs in a peculiar discomfort.

The final man had been watching him from the corner of his eyes through small spectacles. When Soldier turned to speak to him, he gave a polite smile, extending his hand as the Heavy did. The man wore strange leather gloves despite the heat, but Soldier shook his hand anyway. Under his coat, the mercenary was wearing a suit.

"I am your Medic. I'll be zhe one taking care of you out here. Your doctor, understand?" His grip was firm, and the Soldier nodded before pulling away a little. The man's eyes were sharp and laced with something betwixt danger and kindness, but his broad stance and smart attire radiated confidence and security. But this man's voice was strange too.

All three men seemed military enough; short hair (if any), broad shoulders, strong arms. But something wasn't right. Something obvious.

Soldier glowered a little, teeth begging to be bared. "You're not American."

The Heavy looked up from the crate he was digging through, gaping a little. "Escoose me?"

Soldier could feel his hackles raising, a finger about to point in accusation at the trio. "You three, you're not American!"

"Vell of course, you imbeci-" The Medic started, before a hand clapped on Soldiers shoulder.

"Easy there, Soldier!" Engineer seemed to sprout out of thin air, his hand comforting and calmness seeming to radiate from him. "Of course everyone's American! Don't you be silly! We're all proud Americans here!" Behind his goggles, Engineers eyes flickered to each of the others, and after an unsure moment they nodded and reluctantly smiled.

"As I was going to say," The Medic cleared his throat, eyes darting away to something within the crates. "of course, ve are all American."

Engineer quickly clapped his other hand on the Medics shoulder as he looked at Soldier. "See? Everything's fine, don't you worry. We're all one big team here, y'hear?"

The Soldiers frown remained, but he relaxed a little, nodding. "As long as you say so, Engineer." He didn't look at the shorter man. Something about his calmness, his confidence, was intimidating.

"Aw, call me Engie." The Texan turned to the others. "That goes for all of y'all, I'm Engie. I'll be the one making the mechanical stuff, okay?"

Soldier looked away, eyes scanning the rest of the area. The man with the gasmask was carrying the cases out of the Engineers truck, as the Scout idly watched and chatted at him. There was another man stood smoking a little way aways, wearing a suit similar to the Medics, but he seemed very slim, and something covered his head. Soldier squinted in his direction, but the man was facing away and the sun was quickly setting, making it too difficult to see any defining features.

Engineers warm hand was still on his shoulder, and after a moment Soldier felt a tug from it and he turned to face the shorter mercenary.

"C'mon, let's get our stuff inside and get cosy with the place. Whatcha think there, Solly?" Engie smiled up at him, leading him towards their pile of cases that they gasmask-wearing man had placed towards the door. Soldier wasn't sure about the new nickname, but nodded, trying to smile back.

"Sure, Engie."

Things went smoothly from there on out - after unpacking their meagre possessions into their respective rooms and work-spaces, the team gathered around the table that night and everyone was formally introduced over a dinner than Engineer hastily put together. A latecomer arrived to join them; a gangly man that looked like he had never eaten a decent meal in his life, but said he was a Sniper of some kind. He didn't say much more besides that. Engineer was sat to Soldiers side, and patted the other seat next to him and willed the man to sit and eat, but the newcomer declined - Sniper wanted to get used to the place before feeling comfortable. The man that was smoking earlier appeared half-way through the meal, and Soldier realized his face was covered in a mask that the Medic called a 'balaclava'. The masked man said his name for the job was the Spy, and Soldier frowned a little. Was a Spy needed? Spies were dangerous and tricky and not to be trusted. Soldier leant into the Texan slightly, lowering his voice.

"Is the Spy also a 'kinda' American like the others?"

Engineers eyes widened slightly behind his goggles, and opened his mouth to answer before he was interrupted.

"I think you would find-" the Frenchman started, taking the seat next to Engineer and glancing around him to face Soldier. "-that all of us have the correct papers. All of us here are American citizens, vhile we work here for RED. I assume you have all your papers too, non?"

Engineer could visibly see Soldier bristle out of the corner of his eye.

"I am an American."

"And so are zhe rest of us, monsieur."

Soldier clenched his jaw a little. He supposed the Spy was right. But that didn't like that fact.

He supposed that, as time went on, he saw a little more eye-to-eye with his other teammates. The Engineer, however, was always the easiest to get along with.

The Engineer and Medic chatted over the food about the Respawn system, how it works, deftly explaining it to the others. Soldier just kept eating - he didn't need to know exactly how it worked, just that it did work. They explained that anything Mann Co. branded and any human tissue would be reformed after-death, and that their records would ensure they came out the system just as they came in, only more alive.

Two days later, after settling themselves in, they tested it out in their first battle.

Each of the team members roughly knew their place - support, defence, attacking. No one really expected the first battle to go smoothly, and while they became accustomed to the terrain everyone figured mistakes would happen and formations would form with experience.

Everything happened at once, the teammates stumbling over themselves a little. The Scout had rushed ahead in front of everyone, which rather quickly became his strategy every fight. Upon seeing the Spy vanish into the air, the Pyro became somewhat trigger-happy and flicked a few sparks towards any who approached, no matter the team colours. Their enemies came quickly - men of similar stature and uniforms, but not quite the same. It didn't matter- Soldier was here to do his job and his job was to kill anyone not on his side and to follow orders. The Medic followed the Pyro around, then shifted to the Engineer for a moment as he followed him up a short climb, then ran towards Soldier. Being healed was a sensation unlike any other - a rush of warm and endorphins and fire all trying to push into his veins at once. The first rockets the Soldier fired felt as if they were an extension of himself, blaring into battle. Then the light was gone, and the Medic rushed towards their Heavy as he shouted for him behind cover. Heavy shouted over to Soldier, too.

"Help attack! Follow the little path up to enemies! I follow you!" A thick arm pointed a path around some rocks, the sounds of men dying behind it clear. Soldier nodded and rushed into the sound, eager to fight the good fight.

Thats when Soldier saw something he could never forget.

Engineer was perched atop a rocky outcrop, his sentry blasting towards the enemy lines - a flourish of bullets was swiftly turning the BLU Scout into a bloody rendition of Swiss cheese; and Engineer was smiling. It wasn't his usually, friendly, neighbourly smile. His teeth were bared and his goggles lit up with each flash from the muzzle of his sentry, nose wrinkled slightly in a soft interpretation of a snarl, his lips pulled back as a harsh laugh barked from him.

And it was beautiful.

At first, the Soldier wasn't sure he could see the resemblance; Soldier had seen trained men come and go, but none were like Engie, none looked like friendly, unsuspecting, tame little men like Engie. The Engineer did not look like a killer or warrior or man built to destroy. He had creators hands and a builders physique, and a soft voice like a family man. Engie looked nothing like a murderer. But now there he was, eyes glowing with delight as a device he had built from scratch rendered his enemies into a bloodied pile of muscle and pulp. And it was pure. Pure energy, pure happiness, pure excitement.

Soldiers heart jolted inside his chest, and it felt like the medigun had exploded on him.

But the Medic had rushed infront of him behind the Heavy, and Soldier had frozen, staring up at the Texan as he gunned down a line of BLU men with that grin plastered to his face.

Then his heart skipped again.

A faint blue dot skimmed across the Engineers helmet, before slowly settling, the BLU Sniper lying in wait, ready.

Soldier lurched forward, unthinking, adrenaline burning his body as he surged up the rock and dust.

"Engie-!"

His arm made contact with his sleeve. There was stumbling. The shorter man breaking out of that smile and turning to him in confusion. Falling. That deadly blue dot sharply dancing. Shouting.

A shot rang out.

Soldier had never died before. At first everything was red-hot, then things went cold. Comfortable. He never felt himself hit the floor, and couldn't remember closing his eyes. But he remembered the look on Engies face. That sharp, enigmatically gorgeous smile melting into pure concern as he ran towards him. The look changing into shock and fear as he reached for him. Engineer had reached for him. Just for him. Soldiers chest burned and it felt like each and every nerve was being pulled out of his skin. His muscles felt like they could have melted straight from his bones and every cell in his body was being electrocuted. He jolted awake with a sharp, shrill yell and he fell to his knees in the Respawn Room. The room swam around him teasingly, his entire body tingling with the new sensation of being brought back to life.

He remained there for a moment before he realized someone was there with him.

The Spy stood in the corner, leaning heavily against the wall - the hand that wasn't shaking violently was holding a cigarette with practised profession.

Soldier glanced up at him from under his helmet.

"...Its...unpleasant, non?" The Frenchman gave a shaky laugh before bringing the cigarette to his lips.

"...What got you?" Soldier slowly and shakily raised himself, knees shuddering at the effort.

"Their Pyro. Snuck up on me from zhe side." The Frenchman looked away. For a split second, his face darkened and he flicked away the butt of the cigarette. "It will not happen again."

He stalked out of the room, hands sliding into his pockets cooly before he turned the corner and promptly vanished.

Soldier briefly wondered how long he had been there. He skimmed his hand along the wall a little as he took a few slow, shuffling steps. His body ached, and he felt tired somehow, but he was alive.

A thought stormed into his head.

Engineer hasn't respawned. He must be alive.

Despite his shaking legs, it didn't take long for Soldier to rush back to that spot; there was a scuffle of footprints, and a rather large splatter of blood. He assumed it was from his own death, and made a mental note to rip the enemy Snipers arms off and beat him with the soggy ends next time he laid eyes on him. But there was no sign of Engineer anymore. There were no scraps of machinery laying around, and not enough spilled blood for two men.

Footsteps slightly smaller than his own led away from the scene, running towards the sounds of battle.

Soldier followed them, slowly lifting the RED-issued launcher they had given him.

Ahead the team were fighting hard despite his absence; the Heavy was holding strong and pushing back the BLU lines, the Medic over-healing the Pyro fairly close-by. A red dot skimmed the area now and then. Soft blurs of light shimmered now and then, and Soldier wondered if how far Spy had actually gotten in front of him.

A few soft clunks echoed to his left, followed by some short beeps.

Upon a ledge, the Engineer was rapidly tightening a bolt on his sentry, his toolbox open and metal parts scattered in small, precise piles. The ledges above held no sign of the BLU Sniper.

Something inside Soldier gave way - relief, he supposed. Engineer was working hard and completely fine. The sentry gave a whirr and spat some shots towards the front lines. Right. Soldier should get to work too.

The next few minutes, hours perhaps, were blurs - running to the front and leaping into action besides the Medic, launching rockets at the men in BLU uniforms. Somewhere, a woman crowed that a briefcase was stolen. BLUs appeared less and seemed more frantic, scattering like their footsteps in the sand. Alarms went off, and there was more shouting. The rest of the team surged into the BLU base, and Soldier caught a glimpse of the Scout and fluttering papers.

Soldier remembered his weapon seeming to glow with power as the final alarm rang, shouting their victory. The others dispersed, chasing their enemies as they backtracked, and Soldier followed suit, before sparing a glance back.

Engineer straightened up on his ledge, stretching his arms up. His gun, too, glowed a little, but it remained sat in its holster. He rotated his neck a little, wiped his forehead, then patted the top of his hard-working sentry, before kneeling in preparation to dismantle it. Soldier watched for a moment, before the sounds of his team jeering at their fallen adversary became too alluring to ignore.


	2. A Little Strange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Soldier thinks hard about what he wants in life and why he is the way he is.**
> 
> _"Who am I? What am I? What's inside? That's causing this Malfunction?_  
>  Mislabeled, unable, to repair this Mal-  
> Functioning just fine, I'm alive! At this junction, of dysfunction, we arrive.  
> Gold, silver, copper, bronze, the dullest metal can still be strong.  
> Well we might have our share of ticks, but honey that's how we get our kicks.  
> Curvy, skinny, or bizarre. The best shape is who you are."- SPG, Malfunction.

The Medic requested that the team came into his infirmary after the battle, for a check-up. It was only fair; it was their first fight and a few of them had died already, and the doctor seemed inherently curious about the effects that could have.

The Pyro put their hand up and skipped into the medical bay first, seeming eager to get it over with. Soldier guessed that whoever was under that mask was a little uncomfortable showing themself off, and would appreciate getting to the showers before anyone else. He could relate, in a way - the Pyro had not yet been seen without the gasmask just as Soldier had not yet taken off his helmet in front of any one. Some people just need securities like that.

The others shambled outside and formed a rough queue, some taking seats. Engineer slid into a chair and stretched a little, smiling at the Scout who flopped into a chair next to him. The Heavy followed, cautiously sitting on the chair closest to the infirmary door - while he didn't look uncomfortable, he didn't seem to trust the integrity of the seat. Soldier remained still, standing and not leaning against the wall. The Spy slid before him and stood a little way away from him, leaning slightly upon the wall. Time passed slowly. The Sniper eventually and awkwardly shuffled in. He had a dusting of grit and dust on him, and perched on a seat towards the end of the room.

Soldiers eyes scanned the room around him.

The Scout took his hat off and wiped a hand through his short hair, giving the Engineer a toothy grin before they started to idly chat about the days events, the tide of the battle. The Engineer nodded along with him, stocky legs crossing at the knee. Sniper glanced over at them from time to time, his eyes shaded by the tinted glasses he wore. Soldier guessed that perhaps the glasses helped with looking through a scope all day, but Sniper had seemed distant compared to the other team members - perhaps like himself and the Pyro, Sniper liked having a safety barrier to hide his eyes. Engineer let out a short laugh as Scout described how easy it was to grab the briefcase. The Heavy somewhat restlessly looked towards the infirmary doors, a hand moving to scratch at a stubbly cheek. Engineers hands moved as he articulated the placement and effect of his sentries. Next to Soldier, the Spy rotated his neck and loosened his tie. Engie moved his goggles up to rub his eyes, then replaced them. Pyro snuck out of the infirmary doors and Medic called out into the hallway, the Heavy taking Pyros place. The rise and fall of Engineers chest and he chuckled at Scout complaining. Demoman languidly stretched. Engineer cast a soft, playful smile up at Soldier, the crinkles around his eyes looking entirely welcoming and genuine. The Heavy slid out the infirmary doors, softly asking who was next, and the Scout quickly pushed into the Medics room. Engineer shook his head at the boys eagerness, the smile staying on his face. Demoman asked the room if he could go next, and a unanimous bunch of positive noises gave him permission. Engineer slid his helmet off and rubbed a palm over his scalp, not looking at anything in particular.

Engineer was soft again - no more of that malicious grin and bared teeth and fire in his eyes. Calm and relaxed, Soldier felt his own muscles relax a little at the sight of the Texan. There was something soft and bear-like about him now; unwieldy and sleepy and yielding, that somnolent, genuine smile aimed at no one in particular.

Scout sauntered out the infirmary and Demoman took his place, patting the boy on the back as he went.

The phrase 'Southern Comfort' came to mind as Soldiers eyes followed the mellow rise of Engineers chest, the languid blink of his eyes behind his goggles. He swallowed, and Soldier tracked the movement of his Adams apple with his eyes, silently fascinated. All of the mercenaries definitely seemed interesting; men of different backgrounds, skills and walks of life, but something about Engineer was fascinating. The florescent light above them gleamed off of the rim of his goggles, the shine of his arm hair. His cheeks and lips looked softer than anyone else's here, without seeming feminine. Soldier could feel himself looking at the Texan a little too hard. The other mercenaries were clearly hardened in the ways of the world, even the Scout, each seemed skilled and confident both inside and outside of battle. Yet, Engineer sat so quietly before him appeared entirely at peace with himself, seemed at peace with the thing inside him that brought that deadly smile to his face. He was dangerous and skilled and soft and Soldier had never felt so interested about someone or something before.

"You are staring." Was murmured lowly so that only he could hear, the Spy casting a light glance at him. He was stood closer than Soldier had realized.

Soldier slowly and unsurely turned to look at the Frenchman. Spy looked straight ahead, eyes flicking to the Texan for a split-second, his tone low but not entirely dangerous.

"While he is easy on the eyes, and understanding, some might find that a little strange."

Soldier looked over at Spy, opened his mouth a little, before closing it again. He felt a little too warm, the back of his neck and palms of his hands strange and uncomfortable. He hadn't meant to stare. Engineer hadn't seemed to notice, nor the Sniper who was still perched in his chair.

Spy said nothing more, crossing his arms and keeping his gaze straight ahead.

Despite his face remaining entirely neutral, the American couldn't help but think there was a hint of smugness to the corner of Spys lips. But then again, he had never been very good at reading faces. Perhaps that was 'a little strange' to others too. He slowly moved his head to look at the ground, following the grooves in the floor tiles. He briefly wondered if he had always been 'strange'. Something nagged in his mind - Did Engineer think he was 'strange'? He'd been so nice so far.

After what seemed a long time, Demoman slid out the doors and slapped a hand on Soldiers shoulder.

"Its yer turn, mate."

"Ah, Soldier. Please, sit." The Medic briefly turned away, scribbling some notes down. Soldier hefted himself onto the gurney, watching from under his helmet. "Vould you mind removing your coat, bitte? I'm going to be checking your vitals and measuring you. You can keep on an undershirt, but not zhe coat, please."

Soldier gave a slight grunt and a nod, following orders. He had no issue going without clothes in front of others - he had nothing to hide. The only thing he preferred not to remove in public was his helmet.

The German straightened up and slid his coat off and moving to hang it up. He then pulled off his pullover and folded it over a chair before returning.

"Ah, I forget how warm it gets in here. Now, can you remove your helmet, bitte?" he asked, standing before Soldier, before reiterating. "Please."

Strange, but not unnecessary. Soldier hooked a thumb under the brim of his helmet and pushed it up, before removing it entirely and placing it next to him on the gurney. He did not look at the doctors face, keeping his gaze lowered. His helmet was a part of him. Removing it felt wrong somehow, but he knew the Medic had good intentions. He was a doctor, he could trust him, Soldier repeated to himself mentally. He didn't pay attention as Medic circled up, writing down notes, measuring parts of his body, lightly checking his ears, pressing the cold bit of the stethoscope to his chest. He guessed Medic would save his eyes until last, until Soldier was comfortable.

Soldier was not comfortable.

The Medic was not wearing his coat or jumper. Soldier warily eyed the starchy white shirt. In certain shifts of the light, as the Medic moved to kneel and test Soldiers knee reflexes and muscles, he spotted the outline of the German mans undershirt against his body. Something bubbled in his gut. Despite only knowing Medic briefly, he had only ever seen the man in a coat, whether it was the black one he had arrived in, or the white one he now wore to battle and around the base as uniform. He looked so _naked._ Bare and vulnerable. But Soldier couldn't look away - as Medic lifted one of his arms and wrapped a tape measure around it, checking the diameter of his bicep to compare it to before he died, Soldier could see how deftly his hands worked, the way the Medics arm muscles tensed and how that in turn shifted the muscles in his shoulder, side, stomach.

A finger prodded the underside of his chin lightly, beckoning Soldier to look up. After a second, Soldier met the doctors gaze.

"Everyzhing looks good, Soldier. Last thing I need to do is check your eyes. Are you alright with zhat?"

He gave a tense little nod, keeping his eyes focused on the Medics. The doctor leant forward, his short-sightedness an excuse to move closer to look at Soldiers eyes. Soldier did everything the man asked - looking in different directions, following a light, reading a chart and so forth. Eventually, Medic pulled away, and Soldier let out a long breath he didn't realize has settled in his lungs.

As Medic moved to his desk and scribbled down a few more notes, Soldier slid his helmet back on. Medic was, surprisingly, not the worst doctor he had ever seen. He was more polite than he had expected, at least.

"From vhat I can tell," the German started as he leant against his desk, long legs crossing over themselves casually as his eyes scanned the papers. "- you're completely fine. Respawn worked perfectly on you, zhere is no difference in any of your measurements or reflexes, your vitals seem perfectly healthy. All the data I've collected today matches your work from before. You're good to go, Soldier." The doctor looked up at him and gave a little smile. "Unless zheres anyzhing you need me for?"

He felt awkward, on the spot like this. Soldier looked away.

"I'm not...perfectly healthy though, am I?" he muttered, and Medic tilted his head towards him.

"...vhat do you mean?"

Soldier was silent for a few long moments. "...I'm not like other people, Doc. Am I?" Soldier knew he was...unique. He had quirks that others didn't seem to understand sometimes. He'd never really had friends, not until now. And he could feel himself latching onto Engineer somehow, he knew he had been staring a little too intently, watching him more than the others. He wasn't normal or 'perfectly healthy'. He was wrong inside, somehow, he knew it. 'A little strange'. The words kept repeating in his head. He finally looked up at the Medic, trying to gauge his reaction. The Medics face softened a little, and he slowly approached, before kneeling before the gurney and looking up at the American.

"Listen to me, Soldier. You're okay. Being here is a big change to everyvone, we're all away from our comfort zones and our homes. Its normal to feel a little strange right now, you're around people you don't quite know yet. Even for a big, strong guy like you it's alright if you feel a bit strange. But everyvone here is your friend, understand? We are here for you."

Soldier didn't look at him, but gave a tiny nod.

"And if you need me for anyzhing," Medic continued, "anyzhing at _all,_ I am here to be of help. If youre worried about somezhing, or feel you can't cope. You can alvays come talk to me, ja?"

Soldier gave another tiny nod, daring to look at Medic. He didn't appreciate people trying to forcibly look at his eyes from under his helmet, but Medic didn't seem malicious. The way he spoke was calm, clear. But having the man on his knees before him rendered Soldier unsure, unable to look at his eyes again. He focused on a small patch of stubble that had made its home on the side of Medics cheek.

"And I'm sure zhat the others here will talk to you also. Heavy und Engineer und Demoman, we're your friends. We'll listen. We are all in zhe same, big, scary boat." Medic slowly stood, giving the Soldiers knee an affectionate and reassuring pat. He didn't really appreciate Medic touching him, but Soldier knew he meant well.

"Go on now, you're free to go clean up und grab some dinner. You must be hungry after all zhat running around und fighting, hm?"

Soldier decided he liked the Medic. At first he hadn't been too sure - he seemed a little standoffish and in a way almost pompous, but here, alone where it was just the two of them talking, he seemed a very genuine guy. His office was clean and precise and Soldier could tell he took his work seriously. He appreciated that in a fellow mercenary.

He quickly redressed and grunted out a few words of thanks before leaving. He didn't dare look at anyone as he passed through the waiting room. Even Engineer. Especially Engineer. He could almost feel the watchful eyes of the Spy following him, and tried to ignore him.

Despite his stomach murmuring it needs for food, Soldier decided to wait; he headed to his room to quickly ensure his possessions were still there - his weapons were in order, clean, ready for use. His bed was neat, the way he left it. His clothes were waiting for him. His own felt grimy against his skin, and he decided that food could wait until he had a warm shower to clean off the dust and grit that had settled into his skin from the days battle.

The shower room was fairly nice, compared to some barracks. Open planned with the metal pipes protruding from the walls, with divisions between each stall that were not too restrictive. It was minimalistic and inexpensive, but efficient. Lockers and clothing pegs lined the opposite wall, with hampers for wet towels laying in wait besides the door. A long bench or two sat by the lockers. A few stark shelves stood with a few meagre soaps and bottles on, ready to be used. Demoman was already in the showers when Soldier walked in.

The Demoman turned and gave a slight wave as Soldier sat on a bench to unlace his boots.

"The water ain't too hot t'day, but s'nice after all that running around we've done today, eh?" He gave a wide smile back at Soldier. Demoman seemed quite comfortable, despite wearing nothing. Soldier had heard Scout snickering about the lack of underwear Demoman wore, because of that skirt thing he wore. Soldier guessed that maybe the Scot was just comfortable in the least amount of clothing possible. He certainly didn't seem shy about the fact that he had his ass pointed in Soldiers general direction.

Then again, why would he? They were both men, both mercenaries, just doing their job and getting clean. There was no need for anything to be uncomfortable.

Soldier hastily stripped himself of his clothing and folded it into a locker, before padding over several stalls down from the Demoman.

Stood beneath the spray of the tepid water, he felt safe enough without his helmet. It was odd - stood completely naked with his back to the outside world he didn't feel vulnerable somehow. He supposed Medic was right, in a way, that everyone here was under similar circumstances. And every one was a professional! It's perfectly fine for him to forgo his helmet in the shower. That's normal. That's normal behaviour, Soldier told himself.

Demoman glanced over at him, his thick black hair running in cascades over his neck.

"So how did'ye find it teday? You die much?"

"Nah." Soldier blurted back. "Just the once. You?"

"Three 'r four. Their damn Pyro is a nasty piece'a work, I'll tell ye."

"Yes. The Spy said the same thing to me." Soldier glanced over at him. Demoman chuckled a little before moving to face the stream of water, closing his eye as the droplets ran over his face. For a man who had spent the day running and screaming and making things explode, he seemed entirely peaceful now. Soldiers eyes trailed over the other man a little - the stall divider cut off his view just under the Demomans collarbone, but he was intriguing. His shoulders were wide and strong, and Soldier liked that. It was good to have strong men on his team, he figured. The torrent of water seemed to darken the Demomans skin even further, giving it a look of polished velvet. Despite the scars that had made a faded jigsaw on Demomans skin, he was certainly appealing in a way.

Soldier looked away, feeling like he had overstepped some kind of boundary. Demoman was relaxed and vulnerable, he had no right to look at him. Soldier, too, plunged his face into the stream of water, as if to wash the thoughts away, before moving his head so the water streamed onto the back of his head and shoulders.

Soldier had seen men naked before. He'd seen women too. But he had never _looked._

He supposed he had never really questioned himself. Girls were nice. Especially girls who were a little round, a little pudgy. Girls who were soft and gentle and stubborn. Soldier appreciated girls like that. Men were comrades. Men were who he fought with, his friends. He wasn't supposed to think about men how the thought about girls. However there were intrusive thoughts that breezed into his mind late at night, when his bed felt especially cold. One odd question often cropped up; did he even think about girls? Other men he had fought with carried pictures of girlfriends, fiancées and wives, some ululated over dirty magazines with slim girls leaning over machinery. Soldier had always been more interested on the car or motorbike or gun the woman was leaning over. Girls were nice, and pleasant to look at. But everyone else seemed to appreciate them differently to him.

Sometimes, he thought, he guessed he did look at men in a similar way. Not the exact same way, Soldier pondered, but similar - he remembers hearing men jeer at passing women for their assets, their curves, their figure. And women were pleasant to look at. But Soldier always looked at men like that too - their muscle structure, the way they carried themselves, their strength. Part of him wanted to look back at Demoman. He was big and strong and knowing that someone like that was around and on his side felt good by some means. He thoughts drifted to the Medic during his examination. How visibly his muscles moved without his coat obstructing them and how fascinating that was. But surely thinking about how good his team is was natural? Of course he should take an interest in his teams wellbeing! He has to make sure they can hold their own out here. He wondered if he saw a picture of a man leaning over a car or motorbike or gun, would that perhaps hold his interest? Soldier figured men were nice to look at too, but there was something different about it, something he couldn't place. Something swirled deep inside his gut that made his head ache. Were these feelings 'okay', as Medic said he was? It's not like he could go up to one of his comrades and articulate how he felt - they had only met a few days ago, and what if they ostracized him for being...'a little strange'? Did they look at others the way he did? Did they look at him that way? He always like girls who were a little soft, so why did men being strong change that view? Did he just need to find a woman who was strong like a man? He had never really noticed men who were soft before, the way girls were; he had always looked at muscles, pure brute strength, not the supple, squishy parts.

His thoughts shattered open when the door to the showers swung behind him.

"Evenin', fellas."


	3. Panicked Indulgence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Soldier tries to force himself to relax around Engineer but struggles. His mind is running away from him and he'll be damned if he can get it back in his grasp.  
> **  
>  _"You didn't have to look my way. Your eyes still haunt me to this day._  
>  _You didn't have to smile at me. Your grin's the sweetest that I've ever seen._  
>  _How I find myself without you, that I'll never know.I let myself go._  
>  _Hello, goodbye, I'm rather crazy,_  
>  _And I never thought I was crazy._  
>  _But what do I know?_  
>  _Now you have to go."_ \- SPG, Honeybee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This chapter has VERY NSFW stuff, especially at the end! Read at your own discretion!)

Oh God.

Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, Oh God.

Soldier had never felt so exposed; literally naked and helmet-less, and now the very person who had plagued his mind was right behind him.

He ignored the sounds of the Engineers clothes rustling and being removed. He stared into the shower drain-hole as if it held all the answers of the known universe. In his peripheral vision, he spotted Demoman turn back to look at the Texan.

"Hey, lad. Ye did a damn fine job defendin' us oot there t'day."

Engineer seamlessly slid into one of the stalls between the two other mercenaries.

"Aw, shucks, Demo-" Another nickname, Soldier mentally noted. "-ya did a damn fine job yourself; I saw ya take down the enemy Soldier witha buncha those sticky-bombs. That was a pretty fine job ya did on that bastard. Tricky fella decided to aim for me a buncha times, I owe ya one."

"Nah, forget about it lad, I gotcher back."

Engineer gave soft chuckle before turning the shower knob, the pipes giving a groan before spitting out water. As he scrubbed at his forearms, grime disappearing onto the tiles, he turned to Soldier a little.

"How're you doin', Solly? You okay?"

"I'm okay." Soldier continued to stare at the floor, before letting out a soft chuckle, nervous. He dared not look over at Engineer. "I'm fine. Just tired, I guess."

He was somehow surprised when the Engineer gave a soft laugh in return.

"I feel ya. What a day."

Soldier slowly glanced over. His entire body felt taut, his skin too tight to be his own. He swallowed thickly, straightening his back and glancing at Engie from the corner of his eyes.

Good God, the man was short. The barrier between them finished at the Texans collarbones, even with the Soldiers superior height. Hell, Soldier must have been at least a head taller than the other man, he even still had a clear view of Demoman from over the top of the Engineers head. But that wasn't what go Soldiers attention - it was his eyes.

It was the first time Soldier had properly seen Engie without his goggles covering half his face.

His eyes were closed, head bowed under the water cascading over him. Over his shoulders, down his neck. He had seen the outline of Engineers eyes through the thick glass and resin of his goggles, but never without, never naked like this. Soldiers mind quickly flickered to thoughts of the Medic; without his coat, so close, so vulnerable. This was the same. His teammates were baring themselves before him, taking their shields down and showing that they were, in fact, human.

His hand moved without thinking, coming up to scrub at the top of his head. He himself was without his infamous helmet. He hadn't really even thought about taking it off. Perhaps, despite the fact he had only been here a few days, something was changing within him.

The water poured down over Engies head and over his back, and Soldier was unsure whether he wanted the barrier between them to be there or not. Soldiers eyes locked onto a droplet of water that slid down from Engineers neck to his shoulder, to the soft, light hairs on his chest. As Engineer moved, Soldier jerked his head away sharply, hands clenching into fists.

"Ya'll goin' fer dinner after this? Heavys turn to cook tonight, it won't be too long."

"Aye, I'm starved!" The Demoman chuckled before Soldier saw a dark arm reach up and turn the tap off. "And I'll be damned if I let Scout grab any food before I do!"

The Scotsman turned and headed towards the benches behind the other men, towelling himself off. Soldier did not look back, keeping his eyes focused on the grout stuck between the tiles of the floor, the swirl of the grimy water sinking into the plughole. Engineer smiled to himself at the Demomans eagerness and good attitude as he scrubbed at his arms and shoulders. After a few moments of the sound of clothes ruffling and skin being towelled, Demoman headed to the door.

"I'll see you two at dinner, aye? Don't be late!"

Engineer turned back and gave him a mini-salute, smiling. "Aye-aye, sir. Save us some seats!"

Soldier heard the door swing shut and close as he blinked his eyes slowly beneath the cascade of water. The muscles in his arms and back ached with the need to relax after a hard day of battle.

He wasn't sure whether having Engie stood by him, naked and silent, was comfortable or not. They washed without any noise.

"...I wanted to thank ya, by the way." Engineer broke the silence as he reached up and turned the water off. His voice wasn't very loud, and Soldier wondered if he turned the tap off so he could be heard clearer or perhaps it was to get his point across without distraction.

Engineer glanced over at the other American. Soldier kept his head down, slowly looking at Engie from the corner of his eyes. He dared not face him. He couldn't trespass the invisible boundaries that had been set. It didn't feel right to look at him fully. Engineer languidly folded his arms on the partition between them, giving Soldier a friendly smile. It felt like some kind of trial; did he dare look at his friend, the one clouding his mind, while both sets of eyes were naked and vulnerable? No goggles. No helmet.

But he had to.

Engineer could tell it was a struggle by the way Soldier swallowed thickly, then slowly turned to face him, almost shyly meeting his eyes, head ducked. He could tell Soldier had too many thoughts whizzing around his head at once, that he had things going on up there. That was okay. They were teammates, and teammates pull together to overcome any problem or issue or difference. His job was to support and help and pull everyone together. It was his job to care.

Soldier stared. He didn't mean to stare. But how could he look away? Blue. So blue. His own eyes were a few shades more vibrant than steel, a low, unassuming bluish grey. But Engineers were vivid and rich and pure. Soldier didn't know what he wanted, but he didn't want to waste this gift; this rare moment of clarity, honesty and vulnerability.

Engines voice dipped a little, speaking softly, clearly.

"I wanted to thank ya'll for savin' me today. I mean, I was so busy keepin' that dang BLU Scout in line I had no idea that their Sniper was jus' 'round the corner." He looked bashful, almost, scratching the back of his head. "I musta looked pretty darn stupid, like easy pickin's or something. I shoulda been more focused, Sol."

He wouldn't meet Soldiers eye now, glancing away. Ashamed, perhaps, that he had let that feral, murderous side of him take over? Embarrassed? His cheeks edged towards a shade of pink, but Soldier chastised himself mentally and told himself that it had been caused by the tepid shower water. Engineer was no coward, and couldn't possibly have the same intrusive thoughts Soldier had. No way.

"It's okay-"

"It's not." He interrupted quickly, an edge of bite in his tone. "I shoulda known better, I shoulda paid more attention. I didn't even hear you comin', let alone a Sniper."

"Engie." Soldiers voice was deeper than he intended, but it made the Texan meet his eyes again. Blue. Blue blue blue. Distracting. "It….it was our first day. We'll learn. It's okay."

In the past, when Soldier needed reassurance, people often used 'we'. It felt a little strange now, using it for someone else.

"….I still owe ya thanks though, partner." His eyes crinkled a little as he smiled. That was nice. Soldier took the sight in. He hated looking at people's faces, at their eyes, but Engineer…..perhaps it was because he was shorter, less intimidating. Perhaps it was because he was nice. Soldier had no answers. Engie rubbed at his own forearm, the blonde hairs there laying dark and flat from the water. "So, thank you. I'll try to be less of a damsel in distress next time." The smile turned into a quick grin, before Engineer turned towards the bench and picked up his towel.

Don't look. Don't look. Don't look. Don't look. He looked. Soldier couldn't help but follow Engineer with his eyes. The soft hair of his forearms was adorned over more - a speckling over his ankles led to little trails and rivers over the back of his legs, up to his thighs, higher -

Soldier jerked his head away forcefully. He couldn't help his pupils refusing to follow and looking back, however, when Engineer towelled himself down. Soft. So soft. He had muscle all over, and it was just…right. Solid legs despite their stockiness, caked with dense, wiry muscle. His arms were brawny, and they had to be, lugging that toolbox around. Broad shoulders. A dusting of that blonde hair speckled there. Belly. Soft belly. Lots of hard, solid muscle there but on top of the muscle lay some fat. That was good. Protective. Good. More of that blonde hair. The gentle swell of his stomach over his arms, his belly-button, the hair growing denser and darker as it curved lower- No. No, no. No. That was bad. Very bad. Damn it.

Before he could stop its approach, a soft noise of frustration bubbled up from his throat, escaping as some mixture of a groan and a growl.

When Engineer appeared not to notice, he let out an even quieter sigh of relief. He'd been told many times that the sounds and noises he had made over the years were …. _a little strange._ Intimidating, confusing, startling. He tried to keep his voice to himself whenever he could. The yells and screeches he had bellowed out in the days battle echoed in his head a little. At least in battle they were smothered by gunfire and could be chalked up to adrenaline. Heavy had yelled instructions and plans to him. He had heard Demoman shout curses and slang at the enemy. Pyro had let out muffled jeers. Engineer had laughed.

That sound rang out in his memory the most.

He heard a distant relative to that laugh as Engie let out a soft chuckle as he dabbed at his chest with a towel and turned to glance at Soldier. Soldier had forgotten to look away.

"You know, the whole team seems real nice but… all my tinkerin with gadgets an' workin' on my machines all the time rather than proper fightin' … y'all must think I'm a little strange, huh?" He smile was genuine and subdued as he slowly looked away and pulled his undershirt over his head.

Soldier was positive he felt each and every one of his internal organs drop into the pit of his stomach, and for the life of him could not figure out why.

He swallowed again, his tongue too thick for his own mouth. He took his time in turning off the shower to give himself time to think.

"…We're mercenaries, Engie, we all do different things." He slowly approached the bench, forcing his eyes to focus as he worked on gathering up his towel and clothing. "We're all strange." 'We.' There it was again. 'We'. Soldier busied his hands with drying himself off. "You're….you are the least strange. Out of all of us. The most…normal, I guess." His voice sounded gruffer than he intended.

Engineer shot him an amused look as he slipped on his boxers. "Is that so?"

He then made a little 'Hm' noise and gave a slight smile. It wasn't quite a laugh, but the noise was reassuring and warming, somehow, and it made Soldier smile back. "Well, either way, I think we should keep at it."

"Keep at what?" Wait, what were they talking about now?

"Watchin' each other's backs," Engineer lightly punched Soldiers shoulder, and it didn't hurt at all. "We made a good team out there today, you keepin' an eye on me and bein' the front lines, me watchin' your back and givin' you support from behind. We worked well together, dontcha think?"

Soldier pulled his boxers and trousers on, looking away for a moment, not watching as Engineer pulled his shirt over his head. "I think so. I...kinda want to make sure everyone on the team is doing their best and working well, but at the same time I also want everyone to look out for themselves too. Y'know?"

Engineer nodded a little. "It's good ta want ta look out for everyone. Ya got a good heart, that's all. Natural-born leader."

Soldier paused for a moment, half-watching Engineer as they continued to dress. The silence was comfortable. Or it was, until a loud, low rumble grumbled between them, and Engineers ears went red as he smiled.

"Guh, I guess I didn't realise how hungry I was." Engineer tugged on his boots and slapped Soldier on the back. "Why don't we grab some grub?"

Soldier slid into his seat with ease, gazing up from under his helmet as Heavy ladled out helpings of stew from a hefty pot that sat in on the edge of the long table. It smelt rich, and there were large cubes of light meat swimming in the broth. Ham, perhaps.

Spy sat at one end of the table, Scout at the other. Sniper sat across and a seat down from Soldier, and it had appeared that Demoman had grabbed a bowl and left to eat in his own space and Soldier could respect that, today had been nearly overwhelming. The seat next to him he assumed was for Heavy. Medic must still be working; Pyro's location unknown. Perhaps Pyro did not want to eat in front of others. That would entail taking off their mask, so Soldier guessed they had gone back to their own room or some secret place.

Engineer breathed in deeply as he sat across from Soldier, next to Sniper. "Smells great there, buddy. Old family recipe?"

"Da." Heavy nodded a little, oven gloves comically small on his massive hands. "Cannot make it so good with rations we have here, but it will do." He tapped the ladle on the edge of the pot, the remaining droplets of gravy falling back into the stew before he handed everyone their bowls. "Eat up, grow strong. Dere is much more for everyone." Heavy took his own seat and began happily eating, and Soldier briefly glanced at the others sat around the table before trying his own spoonful.

It wasn't as deep or rich as he had expected it to be, but it certainly filled a hole. The meat was indeed ham, but it had little fat marbled within it, leaving it a little bland.

"Hopefully is delivery of more food soon." Heavy mused as he chewed at a cube of the ham. "Stew is much better with beef, or mutton."

"It could use a splash of red wine." Spy mused, before taking a sip of his drink (which looked suspiciously like white wine). Heavy glanced at him, face unreadable to Soldier, but the Frenchman gave a slight shrug in return. "Only a suggestion. I'm French, do you expect me not to want wine in my food?"

"Imma need alcohol in my food if I gotta put up with you forever," Scout grumbled at the other end of the table. Engineer shook his head a little with a hidden grin. Like the kid had ever had a drink stronger than root beer. The Spy merely showed something like a spry smile and continued to chew his food. Smug-looking asshole. Soldier said nothing, deciding to look into his bowl. The meat grew more tasteless as he chewed it. Floaty green bits swam in the soup of it. Dried herbs, maybe. Soldier hoped so, anyway. Nobody really complained, however. They ate quietly, a few light jokes and tales of the days battle staining any silence.

After a moment, across from him, Engineer gave a slight smile. "Excuse me," he said, before lifting the bowl to his mouth and tipping back, drinking the dregs of gravy left in his bowl. Soldier watched his throat twitch as he swallowed, and was powerless as his own muscles mimicked Engineer and he swallowed too, unmoving, staring. He did not notice Spys eyes shift onto him. "That's the good stuff." Engineer chuckled, wiping his mouth upon finishing.

"Sign of a good meal, that, big man." Sniper aimed a half-smile in Heavy's direction, and the Russian seemed to nearly glow in response.

"Am glad you like it, Engineer," He said, before laughing a little. "maybe will help you grow a little, hm?"

"Aw hell, leave me alone, Heavy," Engineer grinned back broadly, and Soldier wasn't sure if he should say anything. Surely Heavy was teasing him? Engineer wasn't angry? "I'm fine how I am. I'm fun-sized."

"You'd think fun-sized meant bigger," Scout interjected, chewing with his mouth open. "Like, a fun-sized candy bar is always smaller 'n a real candy bar. Surely fun means you should get more?"

"It's too bad your mouth isn't fun-sized." Spy murmured into his glass.

Soldier stopped listening as the others continued to talk, peering down into his bowl again. He wanted to eat more, and he was hungry, but...he didn't feel like sitting here and eating any longer. There were too many different voices all in one small space. The day had been hard and tiring, and as much as he knew his body needed sustenance, sleep sounded like a much better idea. He scraped his chair backwards and pushed his bowl forward a little.

"I am done. Thank you for cooking, Heavy."

He ignored the others looking up at his abrupt standing. He tucked his chair in and poured the contents of his bowl back into the pot - someone else would benefit from it.

"I am going to bed now. Good night, everyone." He turned on his heel and marched from the dining room, half listening to the chorus of 'good-nights' echoing behind him. Engineers voice was the warmest of them all, and the sound of him re-engaging the conversation faded quickly. The walk to his room was quick and nothing. He swiftly undressed and folded his clothes in the right places, and checked his weapons were correct. He took his helmet off last and set it safely onto his nightstand before he slid into his bed.

He stared at the ceiling. Everything was quiet.

His bed was too soft. And too hard. He couldn't get comfortable, head rolling awkwardly in an attempt to relax. He screwed his eyes up. He kept them open. He moved the covers. Moved them back. He sat up and checked his weapons again. Paced the room. He laid back down. Tossed and turned. Laid on his back.

It may be a long night.

He huffed out a long breath. His eyes felt heavy but something chewing the back of his mind buzzed like caffeine. Today had been big. Their first battle, their first win. Scout running with the briefcase, Medic healing him and then running off to find Heavy, checking him up after, saving Engineer. Despite a voice within Soldier protesting, his mind drifted to thoughts of Engineer in the showers.

His skin gleaming like honeyed satin under the stream of water. The soft trails of hair that stuck slick down to his belly. How wide his hands were, how practised they were at scrubbing at his own shoulders.

Soldiers skin felt too tight again and he rolled onto his side, curling up a little.

Engineers eyes closed in relaxation at the feeling of water running over his forehead, his cheeks, down his neck. The trickles running down the cleft of his chest. Engie rotating his neck a little, shoulders aching with the stress of the day and the load he has had to carry. His head tilting back like when he drank down the broth at dinner. His muscles fluttering as he scrubs his skin...

Soldier huffed again, forcing himself to lie on his back. All of his nerves droned in a long, winding white-noise. Each muscle felt too tense to be comfortable at all. His cheeks felt too warm. He tried to gulp down a lump in his throat when his mind continued without his consent.

How would Engineers skin feel against his own? Soft? Warm? His hands had rough parts from where he had worked on machinery without his gloves. That would feel nice, right? A little rough, a little... _strange._ Maybe strange could be good. Engie is good. Good all over. Nice soft shoulders, perfect width for his hands. Engineer was like sweet marmalade, tangy and sugary and good. The water grazing over his skin, what should he do with that...rub it in maybe, taste it, follow their path with his mouth, lower -

The palms of his hands flew to his eyes and dug in so hard that shimmers of unknown things burst behind his eyelids.

No, no, no, no, no, _no!_

He hissed and groaned, his breath too cold for his lungs and skin too hot for his bones. Being like this couldn't be right. He couldn't think that way. No one thought that way. How dare he even imagine Engineer in a way so...putrid. It was wrong. Disgusting. He tossed back onto his side, burying his nose into his pillow. This was bad. He was bad. Something inside him was growing rotten and he needed it out. How could he ever face Engie knowing such demons of thought festered inside of him? Wrong. Wrong all over. His gut bubbled and he thought he might vomit. He was some freak of nature. How dare he be so corrupt and squalid inside, having such thoughts.

His cock was like white-hot steel against his thigh, trapped against his mattress.

Soldier somewhat shakily laid on his back again to at least relieve some pressure. Nothing felt right - inside or out. He couldn't tell anyone about this - not even Medic. He had to be strong, lead the team, be a good soldier and a good man, not ...not be so _gross_ inside. No one could know. But something had to be done; some temporary solution so he could at least sleep.

His hand was plagued with uncontrollable tremors as he slid it down under the blanket, over his stomach, pausing just under his belly button. Hesitantly, he pressed his palm down on the front of his pyjama breeches and hissed. He was sensitive and the texture of cotton against the head of his cock may as well have burned him. Despite his hands shaking he freed himself deftly, kicking his pyjamas out the side of the bed - yet it did little to relief the heat that seemed to bathe him in viscous waves. He slowly wrapped his hand around himself and pressed the back of his head harder into the pillow, closing his eyes.

His hand moved without him thinking, giving his length a few short tugs - he had never made a habit of this, and the lack of attention made his body almost seem alien in its neglect.

Think of anything, anything but goddamn Engineer. Battle. Today's battle. Sand, sand everywhere, lots of dust. Running, adrenaline, sweat, Engineer laughing before he pushed him over into the dust- No!

His hand sped up slightly, wrist flicking for more friction. His toes pressed into the cheap Mann Co. mattress, hips raising uncontrollably as if his merciful hand was a pond of sweet water in a desert valley.

Think of anything else. Weapons. His shovel. Rocket launcher. Good, weapons are good. His shotgun. Loading it up, pumping it, firing it, reloading it. Heavy also has a shotgun; Scout too, and Engie. Engie pumping his shotgun, the way his hand glides down the handgrip and slides back and again - _No, damn it!_

His hand shuddered, his movements faltering. He took it as an opportunity to smear the slick that gathered at the head of his cock with the rough pad of his thumb, biting his lip hard to restrain a low growl. He gasped, his entire throat dry, hips wantonly bucking up to meet each fall of his hand. Each nerve burned like white-hot pin-pricks, his thighs squeezing together.

Engineer soft blue eyes watching him, smiling, those strong arms moving to pat his back, cup a shoulder. Pull him into a hug, perhaps, because they are friends. Teammates. His hand worked harder, index finger cupping the underside of the head of his cock a little, too many sensations too quickly, too much. Engie laughing, those pearly teeth on show, dangerous, ready to rip his throat out. Good God, Engineer could tear him apart if he wanted to. Soldier would let him. He could feel his gut tighten. Engie moving closer, maybe a soft hint of beer and warmth on his breath, pressed together, lips soft as Soldier moved in to taste -

_"S-Shit!"_

He had no control over his body and his hips jolted up and his cock spurted messily over his stomach, head wrenching hard into his pillow and a guttural snarl crawling up his throat. His thighs quivered with exertion, his hand finally slowing against his still too-hot skin. Soldier didn't realise until each of his muscles slackened that he had his teeth bared entirely, face contorted into a vicious, animalistic snarl. Perhaps the thought of Engineers own teeth on show made him respond, he didn't know. He didn't want to think. His hand lazily slid up his body, smearing the mess he had made into the soft hairs on his stomach. He panted, the air too thick and full. The heat within him moved from unbearably tight to a soft fuzz.

He couldn't remember the last time he had done such a thing. Years, probably. He turned his head into his pillow, a part of him feeling empty and disgusted despite the warmth of afterglow. How could he think of such things? And of his friend? Some teammate he is. Yet the endorphins flooding his body made his eyes droop and his head fuzzy. All of his insides felt like they had been individually strangled by Heavy and mangled and mashed up together. Had he been further is this career, he could perhaps have blamed Medic leaving something inside of his body post-battle.

No one could know of this. If anyone know how messed up his head was, they would defenestrate him. He frowned. No one could know. He couldn't even go to Medic, who swore to be at his side and listen. No. Soldier was a freak and he had to hide that from everyone.

Sweat cooled on the back of his neck. The skin of his stomach and hand tingled where his cum cooled against it. His limbs felt like wet lead. Soldier reluctantly slipped into a dreamless sleep that was far too light to be comfortable.

He had never felt so guilty.


	4. Confrontation On Many Sides

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Soldier feels like the entire world is against him and the inside of his mind feels more barbaric than he remembers. His team is on his side, however, no matter how aggressive and confused he gets.**
> 
> _"My brain is wired all wrong, and they'll agree because it's easier to say I am gone._  
>  _Someday I might tire, having walked through these fires, because I am wired wrong._  
>  _Maybe someday I'll be, in a place where I can see, that I'm not wired wrong._  
>  _My brain is all wired wrong, but that's how it's been all along._  
>  _Sometimes I think that I am the only one, who's been built poor in the way that he runs_  
>  _But how can that be? Am I really that flawed?"_ \- SPG, Wired Wrong.

Soldier avoided Engineer for weeks.

Routine set in quickly.

On a war day, Soldier would rise before dawn, pull on his helmet and check his weapons before waking the others up. He'd jog once around the base before a quick shower and getting dressed. His routine was swift, manageable, and precise and by the time he was dressed and ready each the others were glaring at him with bleared eyes but mostly dressed. He would eat a speedy breakfast with them and order his teammates to prepare themselves and to be ready.

Battles went well - they had lost perhaps a handful of times and usually only by the skin of their teeth. Soldier found his rhythm in pacing himself to the front line, blasting any enemies that made their way around the _incredibly_ effective duo of Heavy and Medic. He found himself turning frequently to see if he could spot Engineer in his peripheral vision, or at least hear the echo of his sentry whirring out of the dust and grit. He kept his end of the bargain by protecting the Texan; but also protected himself by not getting too close.

Battles took too long and yet were over far too quick. In battle his mind went serene; not quite blank or empty, yet glazed over as his instincts took over his body and muscle memory pushed him into auto-pilot. It was no way to live, really. He went to Medic rarely, only letting the Doctor treat him when he had died especially horrifically or had been left wounded at the end of battle. He did not chit-chat with the German, silent and stoic as he was stitched up, or healed with the medi-beam. He would scurry out of the infirmary, avoiding all eye-contact with anyone waiting their turn; ignoring Engineers confused, concerned lenses following his movements. After each battle he ate silently while the others chit-chatted. He checked and cleaned his weapons and lay in bed. He was used to the silence but it still burned him. He fell into fitful bouts of sleep, unsuccumbing to the unsavoury thoughts that wandered into the back of his mind like lost sheep.

A month trickled by. Get up. Shout at others. Jog. Dress. Fight. Back to base. Medic. Eat. Try to sleep. Avoid Engie. He could physically feel the bags under his eyes weigh his head down.

Nights before battle he would sit around with as many of his teammates as he could muster up; Heavy was always present, eager to share his battle plans, and Engineer would lean over the map every night too. Spy would sit, chain-smoking silently, listening and nodding, eyes like a hawk. Scout was usually there, listening to the parts where he was involved. Sniper had attended one or two of these meetings - he worked best at a distance and everyone could see his handiwork; he only needed to be there if there was a big change. Medic attended when paperwork had not swamped him, and Demoman and Pyro usually popped in when they could afford it. Hours of planning could potentially be spent around the dining table, thumbs trailing paths over the map, two differently coloured erasers being pushed around to represent the briefcases. Pyro had made tiny paper versions of each mercenary, each one coated in glitter and glue but they served their purpose of showing a plan.

Soldier did what he could to help conceive each plan, listing the suggestions as they came into his thick head. He was tired, and his back ached from carrying an invisible load. The never-ending circuit of working, running, eating and trying to sleep had worn his patience thin.

Things broke down one fateful fight.

Soldier had been back-stabbed, burned, shot, sniped, blown up and bludgeoned. And he was thoroughly pissed off. He couldn't be mad at Medic; despite the doctor tending to circle around the Heavy he swiftly ran over each time Soldier had called for him and had done his best to protect him, overhealing him before scurrying to the next poor bastard who needed him. The enemy continuously pushed their lines back. He couldn't blame Heavy; the man was a mountain and together they had planned the battle out, the hadn't anticipated BLU to hit them full force from the side. Their briefcase had been stolen. He couldn't get angry at Engineer; he had protected the intel room valiantly, and once the BLU Pyro and Demoman hit the front lines and blasted their way through, Soldier had met up with respawn yet again and was too slow to save his Texan friend and their oh-so-important cargo.

However, Soldier did find someone to blame.

Scout had dropped the briefcase.

_Hours_ of planning _wasted_. Because Scout had decided he just had to spin on the spot and taunt the enemy, waving the BLU briefcase above his head and jeering at them. Obviously, that caught the BLU Demomans attention and the next thing anyone knew was that Scout had evaporated into a bloody smear across the sand and the BLU briefcase tumbled a good fifty feet away, straight towards the BLU Heavy. Everything devolved into chaos and half of RED got killed and an old woman's screech from the PA system alerted everyone that RED team had officially screwed up. Because of _Scout_.

Soldier was unsure whether it was a mercy or not that he had died just before their humiliation round. Most of the team were caught in crossfire before the BLUs rounded on them, cheering and jeering over their success. Soldier woke up, standing in the supply room. His teammates dispersed, the Spy, Sniper, Demoman, Pyro already gone. Heavy and Medic gave the Scout a soft, sad smile each before leaving together. Scout looked sheepish and tapped his feet a little, but said nothing. Soldier couldn't see Engineer, but knew damn well the Texan was right behind him, physically.

Red clouds flooded in front of Soldiers eyes. Soldier could feel his fists shaking and he rounded on his younger teammate before a single thing in the universe could stop him.

"You goddamn moron, Scout! You lost us the entire match!" He stepped forward, and Scout looks up at him with wide eyes - for a moment his face flickered, torn between wanting to argue back against his elder and fear for the taller American. Soldier jabbed a finger at Scouts chest. "You just had to go and show off, didn't you? You couldn't just do your job and actually help the team for once!"

"Sol, c'mon now..." Engineer tried to interject, but Soldier wheeled around at him, his anger bubbling over and spilling onto his vulnerable friend like a bubbling pit of magma onto a helpless village.

"Don't ' _Sol_ ' me, damnit! Kid needs to learn a lesson!" Soldier wretched his head back in the direction of Scout, who shrunk a little under his gaze liked a kicked puppy. He shrunk more when Soldier snarled at him. "Act like a man, damnit! You're here for a reason! You're not some _wuss_ , not a _girl scout_ , funnily enough! Stop letting us down! Do your job and stop acting like a damn _fairy!_ "

"Soldier!" Engineer barked behind him. "Don't you dare talk like that!" He pushed himself between the two other Americans, eyes sharp and hard behind his dark goggles, glaring directly into Soldiers own. No one had ever met his eyes like that. Engineers voice came out in a low, dead drawl. "Scout, why don't you do what you do best and run on outta here." He didn't even look back as the youngest of them flinched, retreated, turned and ran. Soldier did not follow Scouts path with his gaze, staring straight back at Engineer.

"Soldier. If I ever-" A finger was raised, pointing at Soldiers chin, "- _ever_ hear you use words like that, that kinda language, again... I swear to God, Soldier, I'll..."

"What, Engie?" Soldier couldn't help but bristle, already too fired up to back down now. He didn't care that his teeth were bared at his closest friend, didn't care that both hands were clenched into fists, didn't care that he had scared and insulted a teammate. "You'll what, hit me with your damn wrench? Not set up a dispenser when I need it? What could you possibly do to me, Engineer?"

Soldier had not noticed what so ever that with each passing syllable he had inched closer and lower to Engineers face, their eyes merely inches away and still glaring hard.

Engineer did not baulk. He didn't even blink. His face was set in a frown, eyebrows drawn down sharply. He had never been seen this angry before. He was a calm storm, hailstone-heavy clouds laid thick over a swirling sea, dark with concealed anger; cold and calm and ready to strike at the weakest point, while Soldier was an inferno of fury, a forest-fire of all-consuming inundations that tore through every physical aspect of who he was. Soldiers fists shook. Engineer stood entirely still.

His words came out slow, deliberate. So that Soldier understood every sound and every meaning behind each syllable.

"I'll take your goddamn helmet, boy."

Soldier stared at him, brain processing the implication.

"...You wouldn't dar-"

His head jerked back as something whipped his forehead, and suddenly his head felt very cold. Engineer ran from him, Soldiers maroon helmet in hand - the short-ass was faster than he looked and glanced back as he ran, grinning, his short legs carrying him quickly out of the respawn room and into the dust.

Soldiers brain jolted into gear. "Y-You get back here, private!" He charged out after him, eyes fixated on the other mans back.

"Nope, this is mine now! I toldya!"

"Engie! Gimme that!"

Soldier stumbled to catch up to him and Engie yanked the helmet away, chuckling, kicking up a little dust and swinging out of Soldiers reach. He quickly looped around Soldier, surprisingly swift, smile wide and teeth on show. It wasn't like before - this wasn't malicious; his eyes weren't flashing with joy at Soldiers expense, he wasn't elated from destruction or domination. Engineer was _playing_.

Soldier faltered for a moment, brain processing the transition. His grim, harsh snarl dissolved a little. Engineer laughed at him, throwing his helmet into the air and elbowing Soldier out of the way so he could catch it again. Soldiers frown dissolved more. Engie leant to the side, stretching the helmet out of Soldiers seizing grasp, grin wide and welcoming as Soldier reached over him, leaning into him with focus. Soldier started to smile. Engineer faked him out, darting one way and then the other, hopscotching around as Soldier flailed after him. They both began to laugh, the to and fro of the game causing the joy to bubble up from them. Melodic laughs chiming and echoing across the dust, Engineer swung both his arms up, keeping the helmet high above the duo. So, Soldier decided that there was one way to do this. He barged into Engineer bodily, tackling him down, cascading them both into the grit; Engineers laughs bubbled into a shocked noise as the world span around him, tumbling over and twisting as he landed flat on his back. Soldiers helmet toppled away as Soldier wretched his hands above his head, pinning Engineer entirely under him.

"...I told ya I'd take it."

"And I told ya to give it back." Soldiers voice was surprisingly firm as he hovered over his teammate; the only bodily contact where Soldiers hands kept Engineers fists in the sand, at a ninety degree parallel to his head. Don't think. Don't think about anything. Keep your eyes focused. Do not think about anything lower than his face.

His shit-eating grin was still there, and Soldier couldn't stop himself from reciprocating it. Warm. Warm all over, gazing down at his friends eyes; it didn't matter that they were obscured by goggles, he could see them shine with mirth and Soldier was chuckling and so was Engineer. Engineer gave him the sweetest, most sincere smile. Everything was good.

At least, until the flat underside of Engies boot found a place on the junction of Soldiers hip, and the Texan forcibly vaulted the taller man off of him and face first onto the ground beside him.

Engineers laughter grew into genuine cackles as Soldier pulled his face from the floor, wiping his eyes with the flat of his palm. He shot Engineer a scrupulous look as the Texan clutched his side and rolled a little to ease the stitch that running and laughing had given him. Damn it, the man was infectious, and despite sand still dusting his head, Soldier laughed along with him, moving to sit by his side. His gut felt fluttery and good, and slowly his and Engineers laughs wheezed into quiet chuckles.

"Truce?"

"Truce."

"Huh. Kinda wasn't expectin' you ta truce back. Thought you'd wanna keep at me til one of us died, Sol."

"I'm considering it." He smiled down at Engineer, who still lay on his back, folding his arms behind his head. Soldier poked his side. "But you'd be expecting an attack now. That takes the fun outta it."

"Well don't get me when I'm eatin' or sleeping or in the shower or nothing, that ain't fair."

"No, that's just not good sport. If I'm gonna kick your ass, Engie, I'll get you from the front."

The Texan snorted, smile still wide. "Thanks, partner."

Soldier leant back, resting his weight on the palms of his hands behind him. The desert was soft and quiet, a gentle breeze rippling the dust. Peaceful, despite the previous bloodshed.

"...Y'all shouldn't have yelled at Scout like that, though."

"Aw, c'mon, Engie." Soldier huffed. "The kid cost us the battle, he's gotta learn."

"I agree," Engineer looked up at him, face unreadable. "I agree the kids a green-horn and he's gotta learn, but...if ya gotta yell at him..." He sat up, wiping a hand down his face. His voice softened. "...please don't call him those kinda names again."

Soldier was silent, recalling the things that he had said. He didn't think about what was coming out of his mouth - it was things others had yelled at him in the past to stop him being weak and worthless. Were they offensive? It was meant to kick Scouts ass into gear.

"...I mean, callin' folks those kinda things its...it singles out folks who are different, Sol...It'd be like callin' Demo out for being black. Folk can't change how they're born."

"I...don't understand." Soldier swivelled to look at Engineer fully, eyebrows knit tight in confusion. "I meant for him to man up, be strong and be a better fighter, what did I say wrong?"

Engineer blinked at him, staring at him in the eyes for a full minute before clearing his throat and looking away. His cheeks were tinted red and Soldier figured it was from all the running. "...y'know, ' _wuss_ ' an' ' _fairy_ ' and stuff. It means..." he flexed his wrist in a searching motion. "...a guy who prefers men. Y-ya basically called Scout _gay_ , Soldier."

"Oh." The words rang in his ears and made no sense. "And that's bad?"

"Y-yeah, it's bad!" Engineer gave a nervous laugh. "Y'wouldn't like it I called ya mean stuff that you're sensitive about, would ya? Scouts just a kid, he's probably still figuring himself out, and now, if he is that way inclined, he'd feel like that's a pretty shitty thing ta be." His voice trailed off.

"...Is it?"

"...W-what?" Engineer blinked up at him. Soldiers face seemed blank.

"Is it a bad thing to be?"

Engineers entire face went red, ears and neck included. He looked into the distance. "...guess some folks think so. Some folks think that thinkin' that way means you're sick in the head."

Oh God.

_'Sick in the head'._ The phrase burrowed its way into Soldiers mind, snuggling itself in comfortably next to _'a little strange'._

"What do you think?" Soldier blurted, hands tightening a little. "D'you think its sick?"

Engineer was extraordinarily quiet for some time.

"...My dad always thought so. But the way I see it, there's no way ta change how ya are, no matter what those quack doctors think. Ya born that way, I guess. Like I said, it's like berating Demoman for being black, y'know? Can't change it."

Engineer didn't look at him now, despite Soldiers gaze unwavering, focusing on the side of his head. Soldier slowly unbunched his fists, tension dripping down from his shoulders incredibly slowly - he hadn't even realised how tense the conversation had made him.

He gazed into the distance, mimicking Engineer, trying to find the spot in the wiggling mirage of heat above the sands that so held his attention. They sat in a semi-comfortable silence for some time.

"...Are ya mad at me, for takin' your helmet?"

Engineer didn't look at Soldier. Soldier didn't look at Engineer. He thought on it for a moment, tilting his head.

"...Engie, if you were anyone else, I woulda ripped your feet off and clubbed you with them."

Engineer snorted out a laugh and looked over at him. "Why my feet? Of all things!"

"Eh, stops you from running too far." Soldier shrugged, the edge of his lips curling into a half-smile. He'd never been so comfortable without his helmet before. "Plus I suppose it would be funny to see how short you can be."

Engineer punched him in the shoulder, chuckling. "Asshole. What did I say ages ago? I'm fun-sized."

"I'll take your word for that." Soldier smiled before he leaned back and grabbed for his helmet, settling for holding it in his lap rather than putting it on. His head felt usually warm in the sun, but it wasn't unpleasant. Engineer stretched beside him, arms lifting over his head.

"Maybe we should head inside. Doc's probably wondering where we got to."

Soldier gave a soft grunt before standing and extended a hand down to Engineer. When he took it and stood, he smiled up at him and thanked him. They dusted themselves off and strolled leisurely towards the base. The walk inside was quiet, but comfortable.

They came to a crossroads inside - one corridor leading to the infirmary, the other to each teammates quarters and the main dining room. Soldier faltered for a moment.

"I think I should put my equipment away first. You go on ahead to see Medic. I'll catch up later."

Engineer clapped a hand on Soldiers back. "Thanks, Sol. See ya at dinner!" He smiled up at him again, before heading off towards the infirmary. He seemed jolly, an Soldier smiled at his retreating figure.

Soldier felt warm inside. Something good had happened. Engie was good.

Soldier trudged to his room with a smile on his face. He swung the door open and popped the light, feeling relaxed. Bubbly. He pulled his shotgun and rocket launcher free and laid them on his bed delicately - he'd clean them later, after visiting Medic. He pulled his shovel free last of all. He smiled at it - part of his face gleamed back from the gritty metal. Streaks from gore and dust had settled in and threatened to corrode the edge of the steel but it didn't matter; it was still his faithful weapon, that he would always keep by his side. He loved his shovel.

Things were good - despite today's setback Soldier felt happy because his job was good, his friends were good, his life was good. Things didn't matter. Everything mattered. He was still confused but pieces were clicking together and the quiet voices in his head were subdued around Engineer, no matter what the conversation was about. Things were starting to make sense. Engineer made sense. Engineer was good.

He affectionately patted the flat plate of the tool.

"Everything's gonna be alright, shovel."

"Are you sure about that?"

Soldier froze for a moment, mind processing that shovel had, in fact , just spoken to him. However it quickly clicked that the voice came from behind him. Soldier gripped his weapons handle tight as he turned to look at the owner of the familiar voice.

Spy raised an eyebrow as he looked up from his pocket watch at the American. Some kind of half-smile slid onto his face.

"I'm glad I could catch you."

"Whaddya want, Spy? These are my quarters." Soldier wanted to turn away, not look at the other man, but decided it would be in his best interest not to turn his back to the backstabber. He felt violated; how did he get in? How long had he been waiting? Watching? This was his room, not Spys!

"I'm aware of that." Spy straightened his tie slightly. "Zhings are not 'alright', though, are they?"

Soldier bristled. "I dunno what you mean."

"I mean you are acting bizarrely, even for a man of your….stature." Soldier scowled at Spy from under his helmet. "Surely even you can see that your actions are a little strange?"

"Don't say that." Soldier snapped. "You don't have to tell me what's wrong with my head. You're not the Medic." Soldiers shoulders drew up defensively.

"Perhaps not, but I do care for zhe team. There is little about your history in your personal record. Less than essential. "

"There isn't much anyone needs to know. You've got no business snooping in there."

"Au contraire. I am a Spy, it is my job to find out information. Would you not be curious? If I, for example, had some patent interest in one specific teammate would you not be concerned, curious or interested?"

"Ain't none'a my business who you are interested in, Spy." Soldier grunted, unhappy at this entire invasion of his safe space.

"But if an interest in a teammate jeopardized the team's success…?"

Soldier paused, defensive. "Today's loss wasn't entirely my fault. We are a team. I didn't see you out there doing much." He accused.

"Surely that only proves that I am doing my job correctly. I am not meant to be seen." Spy shot back, voice deadpan. His fingers drummed a little on the arm of the chair. Impatience, perhaps.

"What do you want from me, Spy?" Soldier huffed, starting to feel a little exasperated.

"I want to know if I can trust you on this team."

Soldier gave a mirthless half-bark of a laugh. "Trust? You're a spy, you stab people in the back!"

 

"And you are a mentally handicapped man who wields a high powered rocket-launcher, speaks to inanimate objects and verbally berates at his teammates." Spy deadpanned again and pulled a long cigarette from its case. "Go figure."

 

Soldier was struck dumb for a moment, sinking to sit on his bed, silent. _'Mentally handicapped.'_ The words shoved _'sick in the head'_ over and caused _'a little strange'_ to cascade straight out of his head. That hurt. He stared at the wall, frozen and stunned. When he said nothing, Spy continued.

"Although you are not the only one here, I suppose. Medic is borderline sociopathic, Demoman is a raging alcoholic who believes he sees monsters-" Spy tapped the cigarettes end on the chair arm before lighting it. "- zhe Heavy also speaks to his weapon and purely God himself only knows which hellish demon evicted Pyro from its womb. Yet the others focus purely on their work. You focus purely on Engineer. And that is the most worrying."  
Spy took a long drag from the cigarette and breathed out from his nose, watching the American intently. Eyes not moving from their fixed spot on the wall, one of Soldiers hands silently came up, stopping an inch from the Spys nose, before crushing the lit cherry of the cigarette between the pads of his thumb and forefinger.

Soldier let out a slight sigh, eyes slowly moving beneath his helmet to look at the Frenchman.

"I know my head is wrong. I get it. I'm _strange_ , and you don't have to tell me that." Soldier moved his head to fully look Spy in the face, ignoring the inner voices telling him that such an act was uncomfortable. His voice was a low growl; a wounded predator in wait. "But you've got no right to ask about my loyalty to the team. I am a damn good fighter and the best damn soldier that this team could ever hope for so you shouldn't even think about questioning why I'm here, frog. I'm here to do my duty and make this team the finest bunch of mercenaries on the whole goddamn planet. We've been here months and we've slipped up, what, a handful of times? It happens. We're doing better than the enemy and that's was matters, God damn it, and I have been in every single battle on the front lines, risking my ass for this team and this country, not hiding outta sight like _you_ , so don't even begin to think that _I'm_ the disloyal one here."

Soldiers voice came out as a gruff growl, low and hard. Spy watched his eyes, then looked at the man's fist, still inches from his face squeezing his cigarette, then back at Soldier. A slow smile crept across Spys smarmy lips. And yet, something about it seemed legitimately genuine.  
"And that is all I need to know. My job is to ensure the team functions correctly and to devastate the enemy." He reached out, pushing Soldiers extended hand away slowly. "You want what is best for us. That is what matters, is it not? We all have our…quirks, I suppose. As long as you keep in line and do your best to focus, I cannot ask more of you, Soldat. You just need to focus and keep going."

Soldier looked away, briskly wiping the crushed ashes from his smouldering palm. There was nothing he could say. He cared about this band of boys, he cared about serving lady America and he cared about doing it well. Yet he couldn't help his shoulders slumping a little - was his head really that…messed up? All because of Engineer? He seemed to have always been this way but since meeting Engineer everything had gone strange inside him. Strang _er_.

Spy waiting a long few moments before speaking again, hands moving to sit in his own lap where Soldier could see them. "So, why him?" He probed, tone amicable. The tone in the room hand changed entirely - from tense and harsh and unbreathable to as if Spy was an old friend chatting about work at a cafe. Soldier didn't even think twice about who Spy was asking about and wheezed out a breath of mirth.

"I have no idea," he shook his head, looking at the floor. He couldn't stop his mouth from spilling its secrets. "He's nice, I guess. Friendly. Bein' around Engie makes me feel like I'm home but somewhere new at the same time. It's complicated. But he's good to me. I just….I don't know what it is."

Spy nodded a little, reclining in the chair and smiling. "He is a good man, a nice man. It's hard to imagine him fitting in here with us murderers and convicts, somehow." He chuckled warmly.

"Engie's a killer." Soldier met his eyes, his face unreadable. "He enjoys it. He's as much a monster as the rest of us. Maybe worse; he's not directly in the heat of battle, not most of the time, so he thinks things out, waits patiently and savours each time he rips someone to shreds, he plans and calculates it, every day. He lives for it. He lives for building machines that kill. He's at home here, trust me."

Spy watched Soldier speak, fascinated. "….You certainly seem to understand his mind."  
"Lucky guess."  
Spy snorted and grinned, the unceremonious sound somehow easing Soldier a little, yet he still felt on edge. They were meant to be allies, but there was no way that Soldier felt comfortable around him yet. There were too many differences between them - it felt like the only thing they had in common was their teammates. This man fought with smoke and snide and hiding, yet, his horrendous snorting laughter made him seem much more human. He looked over at the Frenchman, watching him chuckle for a few long moments.

"So. What happens now?"

"Now, my shovel-wielding friend, you continue to do your job. You fight, you win, you make your team proud. Yes?"

"Yes. Sounds good. But I meant with-"

"With Ingénieur? -" Soldier assumed that meant Engie, the same way 'Soldat' seemed to refer to him. He wished the man would speak English. "- Surely you must talk with him, non? You know him better than I. Well, at least in a personal, face-to-face kind of way." He looked smug for a half-second. "I'm sure behind the scenes I know more about him than you."

Soldier resisted the urge to huff at the man's pomposity again. "I was gonna say 'with my head'. I'm...it's..." He sighed a little. "...confused and messed up. What do I do, frog? "

"You can stop insulting me for one. Whomever you heard that term from, I assure you, it is not a term of endearment." Spy frowned towards the crushed cigarette still in his fingers, and replaced it with another from his case, abstaining from lighting it. "And I am...fairly positive that no-one on the team knows heads quite like the Docteur... Possibly besides the Sniper, but his speciality is blowing them apart, so, I'd say go to see the Medic." The Spy opened his pocket watch again, looked at it, and looked back up at Soldier. "He would still be in his infirmary, if you want to go to him now. Ingénieur was unharmed, so his trip would have been brief. The Docteur should be free, or likely filling out his paperwork."

"Doc has said that I can always go to him."

"Then there you are." Spy stood and smoothed his suit out. Soldier did not move from the bed. Spy very quickly patted Soldiers shoulder and retracted his hand. "Go to Medic. Talk, have a good think of what you could do to make things easier, and then we go back to battle. The team will keep on moving and we will keep on winning no matter what happens. Do you understand?"

The American almost gave a slight snort of laughter. "You make it sound like a threat, but yeah, I get it. No matter what's up with my stupid head we're here to win and I intend to keep this team winning... _frog._ " Soldier grinned up a little teasingly at the Spy, who rolled his eyes dramatically before smiling.

"Don't let us down... _Soldat._ " 

When Soldier reached the infirmary door, it was cracked open and a red glow spilled out into the corridor. Soldier peeked through the gap to see inside. 

"Thank you for indulging me yet again." 

"Is no problem." 

The Heavy was in the process of sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the gurney, bathed in the beams of the medigun. The Medic stood a foot or two away from him, hands coated to the elbow in blood and viscera as he wiped them with an equally gory rag. 

That didn't matter. What caught Soldiers attention was their state of dress. 

Heavy was shirtless, and judging by the mediguns usage and Medics hands and nearby tools, had probably been operated on - usually it was shrapnel and/or bullet removal that Heavy endured, being such a large target. He could soak up a lot of shots and still be walking; it was impressive, really, but Soldier inwardly cringed at the thought of the Medic pulling shards out of the poor guy after each fight. 

He had seen Medic fully dressed. He had seen him without his coat. He had seen him without his pullover. Here he had gone one stage beyond that; he was wearing his usual boots, usual trousers, usual belt, but his upper half wore his undershirt and nothing else. Soldier had heard Scout call the kind of undershirt a 'wifebeater' - but seeing that not only did himself wear one under his uniform but also Engineer, Scout, Sniper and now Medic, well, Soldier couldn't imagine any of them attacking a wifely figure. Medics arms were bare and he seemed quite relaxed, giddy, even, as he came closer to the Heavy and smiled broadly. Heavy seemed to either not notice Medics state of undress or be entirely comfortable with it. 

"Exploratory surgery is alvays so interesting vizh you. It's fascinating how grand your organs really are, for a man of your size, to see zhem all working so perfectly." He scrubbed at his hands with the rag, gore still coating his knuckles. "Thank you again." 

The Heavy smiled back, tugging his shirt back on. "Is no problem, Doktor. No need to thank me." 

Medic looked a little sheepish as he turned away, his side to the giant and his back to Soldier. Heavy pulled his t-shirt back on. 

"So, we shall go to dinner?"

"I should clean myself up, first, Herr." 

Heavy moved closer to the doctor, one of his large hands resting on the small of the Medics back. He smiled down at him. Soldier felt a little awkward - should he leave? He felt like he was intruding on something but he couldn't fathom what. Heavy seemed completely comfortable touching the doctor, even in the physicians lack of shirt. "I'll wait for you there, da? Make sure Scout and Demoman don't eat all your food. You need to eat more, Doktor." 

"I'm fine, Heavy!" the Medic laughed. "I swear, you are trying to fatten me up!" 

In response to the accusation, Heavy lightly pinched at the doctors side, tweaking at a soft little love-handle, and the Medic wapped the giant with the bloody towel he was cleaning himself with. They were both grinning. 

Soldier looked away for a moment. They seemed happy, somehow. Playful. Maybe it was like earlier between him and Engineer, running in the sands after his helmet. Just enjoying each other's company. At least the team was getting along alright together, right? The Heavy and Medic as a duo in battle were ferocious, so Soldier felt pretty pleased that outside of the battlefield they were friendly. 

He heard footsteps, and jerked his head back towards the door. Heavy was approaching, and as he came close Soldier cleared his throat and opened the door, lightly knocking on it. 

Heavy faltered for a moment. "Oh, Soldier. You are alright?" Behind the giant, Soldier saw Medic turn to face the pair. 

"M'fine, Heavy. I just wanted to chat with the Doc, if that's alright." 

The Russian turned a little, looking towards the doctor. There was a silent moment, Medics eyes flicking between the pair, before he smiled, and Heavy seemed to relax a little. 

"Come in, Soldier. I'll see you at dinner, Heavy." 

Heavy nodded and slid out the door, leaving the pair alone. Soldier let out a long breath. Medic immediately looked concerned and approached him, leaving a few feet between them. Despite only talking briefly, the doctor seemed to understand Soldier pretty well - he respected his boundaries and didn't pry too much, he sat and listened and gave good advice. Soldier thought maybe he should be more thankful towards the surgeon. He didn't watch as he wiped the last of the blood from his knuckles. Soldier couldn't look at the man - during their last big talk the Medic took his pullover off and Soldier could see the man's muscles working, see how his body moved and something about it distracted him and felt strange. Now the Medic was even less dressed and it didn't feel right looking at him. Something about the man was aloof and ethereal; Soldier knew he was a regular man and just like the rest of the mercenaries but he had seen most of his other teammates in the showers and relaxed outside of battle, whereas Medic seemed slightly detatched and busy and absent. Finding him like this almost felt that trespassing a boundary. 

"How are you feeling today, Soldier? You look like you have a lot on your mind."

"...I think I'm sick." 

"Oh?" Medic tilted his head a little and gave a sympathetic frown, before he gestured at the gurney so Soldier could sit. He slid onto it, but still refused to look at the Medic. 

"...Doc...Are you a...a ' _quack_ '?" 

He chanced a glance up at Medic and the doctor looked stunned - offended for a split second - before he frowned, eyebrows drawn low as the sighed slightly. 

"Has somevone said somezhing about my work, Soldier? Do you not trust me?" 

"N-No, I trust you, Doc, but I was talking to -" Soldier thought of what Engineer had said about calling out the Scout. He didn't want his friend to get into trouble. "- to a friend, and he said that a 'quack' doctor thinks certain things, and I didn't...I wanted you and me to talk but if you're one of those 'quack' things then I think you won't be happy with me." 

Medic visibly sagged a little. After a moment, he nudged Soldier over a little and sat beside him on the gurney. He didn't face Soldier, the two men looking infront of them - Soldier appreciated that, the Medic being close enough to be comfortable but not intruding. 

"Soldier, people call a doctors a quack when they are very unprofessional and silly and do things that are not safe for their patients. I have been called a quack in zhe past, because I like to experiment vizh zhings I do, but let me say zhis - everyone experiments vizh zheir work. I bet Demoman tries out lots of different bombs before he gets one to work. I bet Engineer made lots of blueprints before he got a good one for his sentry. I bet you tried different weapons before you chose your rocket launcher. So, why is it bad that I try different zhings to see what works zhe best? Me experimenting has lead to me making the medigun, which means I can help people and the ubervalve which helps us win vizh zhe ubercharge. If that makes me a quack, so be it, but it doesn't matter, because I'm helping zhe team and I'm keeping everyone alive. Alright?" 

Soldier nodded a little. "I'm fine with that. But that's not what I mean, I just, I..." Soldier stammered before he pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes beneath his helmet. He folded in on himself, elbows resting on his knees. He felt like the entire team was balancing on his shoulders and his lungs were being squeezed. Everything is too much. Nothing was enough. He let out a long breath. 

"Start from zhe beginning, Soldier. It's alright." 

Soldier almost expected a warm hand to run down his back to match the soothing tone from Medic. His gut swirled and jumped. 

"You swear you won't get mad...you won't have me kicked out of the team?" He looked up at the doctor, palms clenching against his forehead. Medic looked at him with a mix of surprise and concern, but nodded gently. Solder glanced away, eyes briefly scanning over the Medics bare shoulders. He was different. A slight dusting of salt-and-pepper hair peeking over his neckline. A surprisingly firm amount of muscle across his neck and shoulders. It was nice, but it wasn't Engineer. Not as soft. 

"I swear, Soldier. You can talk to me. It's my job to listen and help, not hurt you." 

"..." A few long breaths later, and Soldier began. "...I yelled at Scout today. I blamed him for losing the match. He flaunted around while he had the briefcase and got himself killed, and we lost, so I yelled at him. I called him names and stuff. Engie got real mad at me and said I was outta line." 

Medic nodded next to him, silent. 

"Turns out the names I called him were slurs for...uh." Soldier made the same hand gesture Engineer had made when he searched for the right words, rotating his wrist. "...Engineer said I called Scout terms for a guy who prefers men." 

"Alright." Medics tone held no emotion. He looked downwards in front of him, listening. Soldier swallowed a little. 

"I haven't apologised to him yet." 

"So, if you're feeling bad, it might be that you're feeling a little guilty about that." The doctor theorized, glancing at the Soldier and giving a slightly surprised look when Soldier shook his head. 

"I'm not sorry for yelling at him, the kids gotta learn, but... I'm sick in the head." He blurted. 

"What do you mean, Soldier?" Medic looked at him with a soft frown.>

"I keep getting weird thoughts. I can't sleep. I don't wanna eat most of the time. My head feels messed up all the time and it's getting worse, Medic." He sighed. "I get that my head is different to everyone else. Everyone's always said I'm different, and I'm used to it, I got quirks or whatever, but lately things have been a...a little strange. Worse than normal. Everything is wrong, Doc." 

"Soldier, if you're feeling stressed, it's perfectly natural, I mean, we are in a war-zone, it's normal to-" 

"I ain't. Normal. Doc." Soldier grunted, shoulders tensing up. "You know it. I know it. We all know I ain't normal. I'm a mess. I always have been." 

Medic remained silent. Soldier was silent for a few minutes. This mind felt too full and yet empty at the same time. Too much. 

"... I asked if you were a quack, because Engineer said quack-doctors try ta change people. He said changing things would be like trying ta stop Demo from being black. So I guess I'm stuck like this, forever." 

Medic shook his head with a confused look. "Soldier, you're not making sense to me. Please go slower. What are you trying to say?" 

"... _Fuck_." 

Medic blinked at him, stunned. Soldier realised what he had blurted and slowly looked back at the German. He was nice. He was good. He had strong arms and Soldier could see his chest hair and his strong neck and broad chest and he had a little bit of a belly and he was good. He liked it. His arms were dusted with the hair too, and his arms were surprisingly bulky from lifting the medigun. His hands looked soft and secure. Medic was pretty and good. But he wasn't Engineer. He wasn't perfect and soft and beautiful and fun and who he wanted to spend his nights with. He wasn't his best friend who he fantasised about, who he wanted to explore with, who he wanted to touch. He didn't want to kiss Medic. He didn't want Medic to make him fall apart. He wanted Engineer to be his downfall and to rebuild him into something smarter, stronger, better. He wanted Engineer to always be at his side. Soldier wanted Engineer, and that's who Soldier had ever wanted. 

_Sick in the head. A little strange. A guy who prefers men. Mentally handicapped._

Engineer echoed in his head. '...But the way I see it, there's no way ta change how ya are... Folk can't change how they're born.' 

"...I think I'm gay as hell, Doc." 


	5. Brave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Soldier learns a lot about people.**
> 
>  
> 
> _You came home last night and seemed far away,_  
>  _I could not believe, that you were alright with everything._  
>  _It's easy to be angry at something that you don't understand._  
>  _And people tend to be stubborn with where they stand._  
>  _I know you don't like how I feel, but please try to remember it's natural for a thing like me._  
>  _Electricity is in my soul._ \- SPG, Electricity Is In My Soul

"So, let me get this straight,-" The doctor paced a little, glancing slightly at the Soldier from the corner of his eye with a crooked smile. "- pardon the pun."

Soldier merely grunted at the German. Time had passed long and slow in the infirmary as Soldier explained himself, sparing a handful of details, and the room was too warm and uncomfortable. Soldier had slid out of his jacket and the Medic wandered before him, still as bare as he began. He leant against his desk, long legs folding in front of him as he crossed his naked arms.

“Since joining the team you’ve been feeling strange, your appetite and sleep patterns are disturbed, and you feel this is because of homosexual tendencies?”

“Affirmative.”

“Even though you’re unsure if you’ve always felt this way about this?”

Soldier tried not to huff in exasperation. “My heads _always_ been messy, Doc. Despite everything, I'm pretty sure I know who I am. I know what I want."

 _'_ Who _I want.’_ Soldier thought.

Medic frowned a little. The look was laced with concern, as if he wasn't entirely convinced by Soldiers words. "Are you sure, Soldier? I mean, you're under stress, in a warzone, surrounded by other men, it doesn't mean you're outright gay, you know?"

"I'm sure."

"I mean, just because you may look at men doesn't mean you are homosexual. It's perfectly natural to look at others, especially in this situation-"

"Doc-,"

"I mean, we work in a team of men in close quarters and we are all comrades, it's natural to form bonds between teammates, it does not mean zhat you are gay, you know this, yes?"

"Yes, but-"

"Just because you might zhink of men does not mean you vant to engage in a sexual relationship. In fact, some psychologists believe that humans are naturally drawn to bozh sexes, even if it is not sexual, we're social creatures, you see, so you might not even be a homosexual."

" _Doc_."

"It's quite possible for you to be confused, I mean these kind of thoughts can be conflicting and confusing, you may just be-

"I'm sick of being confused!" Soldier snarled, glaring up at the German. "I'm sick of second-guessing myself and I'm sick of people not believing in me!"

"...Alright, Soldier." Medic nodded, a little stunned. "I believe you."

"D'you know how hard it is when no one trusts your head? When no one trusts in your judgment? I'm sick of it! Even you, you said I could trust you and confide in you and even now you don't think I'm sure about a damn thing!"

Soldier’s shoulders shook as he raved, fists clenching as he refused to look up at the doctor, shouting at the linoleum floor. The Medic frowned at him, some kind of look of sympathy, and he held his hands up palm-out in some form of submissive gesture.

"...It's alright, Soldier. I believe you."

"My head may be messy but when something's clear to me you should believe me! I know my head better than anyone and this is the clearest its ever been, Doc!"

"I understand, Soldier, it's okay."

Soldier buried his face in his hands, voice muffled beneath his helmet. "I'm sick of my thoughts being so muddled all the time but now everything's so goddamn clear and I can't stop thinking of him, and you or Spy are gonna file the paperwork for a dishonourable discharge because I'm a goddamn disgusting mess."

Soldier kept his eyes covered with his palms. He heard the doctor shuffle around a little, and then his presence brushed next to him, the gurney dipping a little under his weight. He heard a long sigh escape through the Medics nose, and the man cautiously ran a hand down the Soldiers back.

Soldier tensed slightly, but let it happen. Something about it was okay.

"I'm not going to file any paperwork whatsoever, Soldier. You're my teammate, and, believe it or not, my friend." His broad hand soothed down the length of Soldiers spine again before skimming back up. "My job is to take care of everyone. Zhat means listening to you, und caring for you und trusting you. Und I'm sorry, for questioning you."

"S'alright."

"I mean it." The soft hand on his back patted him a little. "But you must understand zhat just because you find men appealing does not mean you are gay. It could mean lots of zhings."

"I know."

The hand patted him again before moving in slow, gentle circles between the Americans shoulder blades. Something about it was nice and good. Soldier slowly pulled his head from his hands and sighed, resting his chin on the top of his knuckles. Medic broke the long silence.

"So, zhere's a handsome man zhat you have your eye on? If it's me, I'm afraid I will have to respectfully refute you, but I will admit zhat I'm razher flattered."

Soldier snorted, and Medic was smiling broadly. Medic was warm and happy and somehow it made Soldier perk up. Smiles were positive. Things were okay. Medic was confident and comforting and wasn't disgusted at all.  
"Heh, you're a classy guy, Doc, but, uh, you're not the guy for me. Y'ain't my type."

"I'm insulted." He was still smiling.

"Pffft." Soldier batted at him in a similar way that he had seen the Medic bat at Heavy. Engineer had punched his shoulder a lot while laughing. Little things like that, little physical acts, that meant you were comfortable, right? Medic laughed, the sound bubbling out of his throat - to his enemies the sound would perhaps be threatening, sinister, but here the noise was soft and genuine and full of mirth. Soldier thought of Engineers laugh, out of the battlefield all those weeks ago. Sneering and harsh and wonderful. Full of blood and adrenaline and guile. He thought of that moment far too much, yet his mind always craved more. Engineer smiled a lot, but each one was different. The soft smile when listening to Pyro or Scout as they rambled at him, the teasing smile when he stole Soldiers helmet, the sarcastic smile when he and Spy threw a few half-hearted insults at each other. Each one was precious, and he could feel Medic smiling a little next to him as they bumped shoulders.

  
"So?" Medic probed, tone completely warm. "Who is the lucky man?"

"It's Engie." Soldier admitted softly after a moment. He was still smiling, and didn't look at Medic to see his reaction. He wringed his hands a little, something fluttering in his gut. "...He's good to me. A real good friend. I like him a lot."  
He had forgotten Medics hand was still on his back, and realized it was still there when Medic gave his shoulder a squeeze that could have been deemed affectionate.  
"Does he know?"  
"Nah." Soldier snorted a little, smile widening, but for the life of him he could not figure out why. "Nah, he doesn't know, just you. And maybe Spy, a little."  
"Forgive me if I do not act surprised at the fact zhe Spy knows."  
"Yeah, he kinda blindsided me. I was worried he'd get me fired too."

"Bah." Medics hand patted his back a little. "He acts tough, but he knows you're important to zhe team. He would not get you removed from your job for somezhing as trivial as zhis, would he?"

"T...'trivial'? You think me liking men is trivial, Doc?" For a moment Soldier was insulted. The revelation that he did indeed want another man in his life intimately was very much a big deal. And Medic thought it was nothing?  
"Not like zhat. Hear me out." He turned to Soldier a little, eyes soft behind his spectacles. "You are a lot of zhings, Soldier. You are a fighter. You are abrasive. You are a leader. You are 'gay as hell', as you put it. But you are also so much more. You are more zhan zhe sum of your parts. You are more zhan just a man who likes men. You are Soldier. And Soldier is a good man who is a good friend and is good at his job. One small part of your life may link with other parts of you, but it does not cancel zhem out. One littler part of you does not make zhe ozher parts bad. And Spy cannot get you removed from us for zhat, now can he?"

"....I guess not." Something deep in Soldiers gut felt warm. He was alright. He was good. Medic was right, maybe things were not as bad as his messed-up head perceived them to be. Well, maybe. How was he supposed to keep going while the subject of all his emotions moved and worked around him constantly? Soldier was not the kind of guy to be out and proud and shove it in people's faces, but now people knew. Eventually Engie would have to find out, one way or another. "...so, what now, Doc? What would you do, if you were me?"

"...Well, you are a man of action, Soldier. But every action needs planning. If I were you? Maybe sleep on it for a few more days. Take time to think, clear your mind. A couple days can make a big difference. Think a lot about what you want, and how you get it. Then work hard to get it."  
Soldier nodded a little. He wanted Engineer. But how was he meant to get Engineer?

"What if Engie isn't..."  
"...I suppose it's a risk you will have to calculate, if you're truly in love vizh him."

There was a creeping silence for a few minutes. A scattered handful of doves chirruped among the rafters. Medics hand was still on Soldiers back and their shoulders were brushing. Medic was a nice guy. Soldier was suddenly aware of how long he had been sat here, with the German just sat listening and offering help.  
"I kept you here too long, Doc. Heavy'll be waiting."

"Heavy can wait a little longer." Medic said simply. "You're important. He'd understand."

"You're good ta me, Doc. I'm glad you're on my side."

"I'm alvays on your side. I know what it's like for people to ridicule you for your vay of zhinking."

"Us oddballs gotta stick together, huh?"

"Absolutely." Medic squeezed his shoulder again. "Zhings will be risky, vizh Engineer. His background, it might make him prejudiced. Zhere is a big chance he won't accept you. But who knows? People would not take you for zhe type to like men, maybe Engineer vill surprise us too. But know zhat vhatever happens, zhe rest of zhe team has your back. Ve'll vurk through vhatever happens."

"Thank you, Medic." Soldier turned to look at the physician, eyes hidden deep under the helmets crevice. Comrades. Medic gave him a slight smile, the corner of his lips quirking, and Soldier paused before lightly patting the doctors leg. He didn't know how to show his appreciation. He assumed that Medic understood because he smiled a little wider.

"My pleasure, mein Freund."

 

* * *

 

Soldier took Medics advice the best he could. He waited, patiently, letting a few days drift by. He continued his routine, yet with a few amendments - Get up. Shout at others. Jog. Dress. Fight as hard as possible. Back to base. Chat with Medic about how things were. Eat around the table with others. Crack a few jokes. Avoid eye-contact with Spy. Enjoy the company of others. He felt a little strange inside; like the brief moment after chasing Engineer for his helmet and just before Spy cornering him, Soldier felt like the world was starting to turn for him and things were beginning to get just right. His head may not be normal and may be messed up, but it still worked, and it worked well in its own way. His team appreciated him, and goodness was starting to bloom somewhere. Yet, there was still a faint tinge of dread settling in his gut. What if, when he found the right moment to talk to Engineer about his feelings, he totally rebuked him? When they talked, quietly out in the sands, he seemed almost distant on the topic.  
The third day rolled by, along with a battle.

Soldier awoke earlier than usual, stretched, jogged, and dressed. It was his turn to make breakfast for everyone and while his experience in the kitchen was minimal he knew how to handle rations.  
Slices of meat and powdered eggs weren't much, but in a battlefield, the scent of smoked bacon wafting through the base was a sure-fire way to boost morale. The regulation bread was dry and there was never enough butter, but Soldier did his best. It seemed to work, because his teammates went into battles with smiles on their faces and launching jeers at the BLU Team.  
They began in the Respawn Room, as usual. Everyone stood in their own bubble, checking and re-checking weapons, idly chatting, going over the days battle-plan in hushed murmurs to themselves.

A warm gush of energy lathed over Soldier for a moment while he loaded his rocket launcher, and he peered up to see the Medic idly overhealing him with a somewhat neutral look. At close inspection, it was in fact a very subtle smile.

"Good luck, mein Freund."

"Thanks, Doc." Soldier tried his best to give a smile back. Medic wasn't just talking about the days battle, he knew it. Soldier was positive of this fact when Medic turned away and focused on quickly over-healing Engineer, his smile broadening as they quickly chatted about some mechanical ideas.

Seemed they had a good report. Somewhere in his gut Soldier felt jealous and hated himself for it. He was not Engineers only friend. It was alright for his teammates to chat to each other. He was being stupid. Stupid messed-up brain, shut up. His decadent thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the siren.

The gates opened and everyone rushed out at once like blood spurting from a wound.  
Medic tracked Pyro for a while as the mercenaries spilled onto the battlements; the Heavy, Pyro, Medic and Soldier lay in wait, tucked behind the corner around from the bridge as Scout ran ahead into the swollen tunnels of BLU base, hoping to sneak in unnoticed. Demoman followed him after a moment of laying his stickybombs on the little wooden bridge, just in case. Engineer and Spy had slipped away, unnoticed. Sniper looped around, standing to the opposite of the other bunch of mercs on the battlements - clever; the top of the battlements were entirely visible from the bridge and battlements of BLUs base, running straight across could attract attention.  
A shout rang out from the tunnels under BLU and Demo's stickies exploded against the bridge. First blood.  
The BLU Heavy and Soldier tentatively snuck out from the battlements and tiptoed across the bridge. Sniper got the Heavy in one shot between the eyes, and as the BLU Soldier jumped in shock and began to race forward, charging for RED base, Heavy leapt down from his hiding spot in the battlements with Sascha spinning and reduced the man to crimson ribbons. That was the trigger that caused the BLUs to react and suddenly the bridge was awash with blurs of reds and blues and bloodstains, the mercenaries clashing head-on above the pit of murky water.

Hours cascaded by, shouts and screams and respawn trips as Soldier leapt from battlement to bridge to the entrances to each of the bases, running to strike when BLU left its lines weak and backtrack when one of his teammates yelled for cover. BLU Engineer had ran onto the BLU battlements and instantly skidded away, narrowly missing a very close new haircut from Sniper. Soldier couldn't help but let out a low chuckle; Sniper was certainly good at his job, and found himself respecting the man more and more, at least in terms of battle prowess. He was quick and efficient, even though he wasn't keen on mess.

Heavy and Medic as a pair, with Medic periodically flicking to Solder or Demoman or Sniper in turn, were incredibly formidable, pacing the top of the battlements with guns whirring and red beams floating around them, daring anyone to even think about trespassing onto RED domain. Scout respawned several times, often relaying what he has seen within the tunnels to their small group - their Spy was an ass, pacing around like an awaiting predator, and their Engineer was temperamental, placing his sentry then tinkering with it then carrying it somewhere and placing it again. Over time, their numbers thinned a little, the BLUs deciding against attacking together and instead attempting to conquer RED in waves. It was easy pickings and Soldier couldn't help but think that their strategies and plan-making skills were lacking. Amateurs, the lot of them! Each time a flash of blue slid out of the battlements, either the Sniper or Heavy knocked the back, and Soldier found himself feeling a little useless. He could charge in and attack, but it would be best to let the Scout sneak in or to storm the place as a group. They were a team after all, and today's battle-plan did not involve him playing hero.  
Perhaps instead, he should do his own form of scouting.

Slipping away from the front lines, Soldier stalked down the stairs and down into the underbelly of the outer base, following the faint sounds of Engineers beeping sentry. He trudged down several flights of stairs, wooden planks becoming concrete as he slid into the underground layers, vigilant at all times for any stray BLUs until the signs pointing 'INTELLIGENCE' at the heart of the base finished at a rather infamous corner.

Fitting, that the most intelligent man Soldier had ever met lay beyond said signs.

Two corridors led into a single room where the briefcase lay. When utilized with effective strategy and focus, it could become a deadly gauntlet. Scout had blabbed on multiple times on successful days about darting into the BLU equivalent of the room and snatching up their intelligence, and when things started to get a bit risky Engineer often slipped down here to provide back-up defense rather than have his sentry out in the open and vulnerable up top. The contrast of murky light down there hit Soldiers covered eyes sharply - it was such a bright day outside. At least Engie wore goggles to protect his eyes.

Slowly, Soldier padded around the left-most corner towards the Intelligence Room. No doors barred this entrance, but someone did.

A soft, gentle beeping echoed every few seconds, hidden beneath the sound of voices. Soldier planned the room in his head - at the furthest wall, the desk with the briefcase. The sentry in front of that, with a dispenser close by. Engineer should be darting around like a busy bee but he heard no footsteps. And a man stood in the doorway. The voices were low, but clear.

"Shouldn't you be givin' them hell up there?"  
Engineer. He sounded as warm and honeysuckle as always. Soldier could practically feel the man smile, despite being unable to see him.

"I wanted to check in on you. I didn't want you do be too bored down here, since I'm getting all the action."

Who was this? An unfamiliar voice. Soldier rounded the corner a little, silent as a shadow, eying the stranger cautiously. The man was tall and broad, his back facing Soldier entirely. RED.

"Aw hell, I don't mind defendin' down here. Gives me time ta think on my next big project, think about designs and such. Besides, with you all up there, somebody's gotta look after things!"

"Heh, I guess you're right." The man was leaning against the wall a little. Sloppy. Unprofessional. He fiddled with something in a pocket. "And no ones givin' you trouble? No wayward Scouts? No Spies?"  
Soldier slid his shovel from its holster, gripping the wooden handle so hard his knuckles turned white.

"Nah, not really. Thought I heard their Demoman shoutin' a while ago but it's been pretty quiet. No trouble."

"Maybe it's because I'm takin' care of it up there." The stranger, - well, calling the man a stranger was perhaps unfair; Soldier knew exactly who the man was. He could recognize his own helmet anywhere, - was smirking as he shrugged a little, crossing his arms. "While you're down here slackin' off, shortstack."

"Hey, hey, what did I tell you?" Soldier could imagine Engineer pointing a finger at the man. Soldier began to smile, gripping the weapon tighter. He glared at the back of the man's red coat. He was going to enjoy this. "I told you once, I told ya a hundred times, I'm fun-sized."

"Oh, I'll bet." The man's voice dipped a bit. A low husk. He leant forward a little, his helmet high enough for his eyes to be visible. "I'll bet you're all kinds of fun, Engineer."

  
A hand clapped over his mouth before he could flirt anymore and Soldier jerked the intruder backwards, hefting him almost off his feet. Shovel was buried into his jugular. The man's crimson helmet toppled to the floor with a loud clank, he struggled, evaporating into a suit. Soldier held firm, forearm pressed hard against his throat as his hand smothered his mouth. The filthy Spy choked and struggled for a moment, before going slack in Soldiers unrelenting grip.  
Soldier let the enemy drop, withdrawing the blade of his shovel watching the BLU fall into a puddle. He twitched for a moment, eyes wide open, before a long wheeze of air escaped the hole in his throat and he lay still.  
Engineer stared up at him, aghast. Spurts of red ran down his goggles and cheeks; Soldier had showered him in his enemys blood.

"If you're fun, Engie," Soldier panted, wiping the blood from his own mouth with a sleeve. "-then I'm a goddamn riot."

Engineer blinked and promptly closed his mouth. He glanced a little at the Spys body, then back at Soldier.

"I knew he was a Spy."

"Sure."

"I did. I swear."

"Uh-huh." Soldier couldn't help but grin. Engineer being a confident, killing brain-box was one thing, seeing him a little flustered and embarrassed was something entirely new that Soldier would treasure.

"I'm tellin' the truth." Engineer rounded behind his sentry, double checking the bolts and joints. After a moment he peeled his goggles back, sitting them on the top of his hard hat as he wiped his face down with a semi-clean rag. He shook his head with a chuckle and looked straight at Soldier. "You're never as relaxed as that. And you don't flirt that much, neither."  
Engineers chuckles grew a little as he saw the edge of Soldiers neck tint a little darker. It suited him.

Nevertheless, Engie shook his head again and circled around to his dispenser, gathering a few small parts and checking it over, not looking at the taller man. He knew how little the man liked eye-contact, and figured having his goggles off would make the other American uncomfortable. "Whatcha doin' down here, anyways, Sol?"

"I came to see you."

"Oh, yeah?" He turned, surprised at the confession. He couldn't help it, and their eyes met. Blue on blue. Very pretty. Soldier held firm for a half-second, before his eyes darted away, glaring down at the dead Spy.

"Yeah, I...wanted to check you were okay down here. But I guess he beat me to it." He nudged the corpse and it quickly disappeared into blue chalk-like dust. Respawn had found the traitor. Engineer gave a tiny frown at the admission.

"Hell, Sol, you know I can take care of myself."

"We had a deal. We look out for each other."

Soldiers voice was deadpan, matter-of-face. He was right, they did have a deal to look out for each other. The sentry beeped beside him, filling the empty space.

"...I figured you'd be too busy to deal with me, Sol. You've been..."

"Distant. I know." Soldier was looking everywhere that wasn't Engineer.

"I was gonna say 'busy', but I guess that works too." Engineers voice was quiet, soft. He knew Soldier had many sides and that he did not enjoy showing any of them to anybody. As far as anyone else was concerned, Soldier was a shouting, adrenaline-filled war machine. Engie knew better than that - he had heard Soldier speak softly, heard him laugh, seen him listen intently and think things through in that strange head of his. Engineer got it. Soldier was an unusual man, but his heart was in the right place. He was a good man.

"I've been distracted. " Soldier muttered, moving slowly to the side of the sentry. He ran a hand over the glossy ammo-box section. Soldier knew how most of it worked, but the inner workings were an enigma to him. His specialty was rockets and guns, not stationary weapons. Chippings of the paint had come free. It beeped. "Been talkin' to Doc a lot. 'Bout my head."

"...Yeah?" The noise Engineer let out was almost choked. He hadn't been anticipating anything like this.

"But it's alright." Soldier looked over at him, focusing on one of the buckles on Engies overalls rather than his face, his eyes. The corner of his mouth twitched, an attempt at a casual smile despite his head feeling cloudy. He felt inferior and like his mouth was full of cotton before Engineer. "Things are much better now."

"Well. That's good, right?" Engie shrugged a little. "The better you feel, the better you'll be fightin', right?"

"Right." He nodded a bit, looking back at the gun. His fingers ghosted over it. It let out a soft beep, scanning the area. He could tell Engie now. He could. He could tell him everything. He ran his fingers down the bullet-belts, feeling the smooth texture beneath the rough pads of his fingers. He could let Engineer know everything now and then run out into battle. No, no, that's not right. Soldier was not a coward, damn it. He had to face up to however Engineer reacted. No running. Not now, not ever. Whatever happened, he would deal with the consequences at it would be his burden to bear. He ran his fingers up the wire that lead from the back of the ammo-box, looping around, and to the barrel of the sentry. It beeped again. But if Engineer did react in an unfortunate way, he at least had an excuse to vanish back into battle. He could force all his emotions into the rocket-launcher and blast them away. Kill the enemy with grief. No. Now perhaps was not the time. He had to think fully. What could he say? How would he say it? Too many factors. Soldier had never had so many things in his head at once, and yet all he could think of was Engineer. The sentry beeped again.  
Engineer watched him, silent. Had he just not witnessed the man slicing the BLU Spy's throat open, he would be a little concerned for his own safety at the moment, the Soldier so close to his handiwork. A few explosions echoed softly down the stairs. He watched as Soldiers hidden eyes flicked all over the machine he had built. The soft pink hue of Soldiers skin had deepened a little. Something was on Soldiers mind, Engineer could tell. Engineer wiped down his goggles and pulled them back over his eyes.

Soldier looked lost. Something in his mind was shouting at him so loudly that everything else was drowned out. All focus was on his hand and the sentry beneath it.

"...Sol."

Soldier looked up at him, slowly. He blinked a little, almost like he had forgotten where he was.

"...Uh...."

"Sol." A tone of humor radiated from Engineers voice. "Maybe ya'll should get back to battle, before Scout gets braggin' rights and lords it over ya all evenin'."

"Right. Correct. I should go." He looked flustered for a half-moment, double checking his weapons and uniform before looking back at Engineer a little awkwardly. Engie leant against the dispenser, watching him. Soldier glanced down the hall, the sounds of Heavy yelling something distorted and echoing. He swallowed. "I'll...uh. I'll see you later, Engineer."

"See you around, partner." Engineers smile was warm. All of Soldier felt warm too.

One last nod, and Soldier ran out back into the battlefield.

Later, he promised himself, he would tell Engineer later.

 

* * *

 

RED inevitably won. Trickles of BLU thinned more and more as REDs opposing team desperately tried to regroup and come up with a plan. With Heavy and Medic storming over the front lines of the bridge with Pyro and Soldier backing them up, they paved a way for Scout once the Demoman has obliterated the sentry the sporadic BLU Engineer kept flitting around.  
Scout ran back over the bridge with the BLU briefcase held high over his head, carefully watched over by the Sniper in case that bloody Spy reared his ugly head again.  
The day passed quickly, the battle short but intense, and the teams were back in the safety of their bases by mid-afternoon.

A few hours passed between Medic swooping on the mercenaries for checkups and Spy rustling up a late lunch. The mercs dispersed among their rooms and around the base, Soldier disappearing into his room as Scout called dibs over the main living room and claimed the TV, the Heavy set up a chess board and Spy and Sniper vanished to wherever they go.

Soldier paced restlessly around his quarters. His weapons were in check. His bed was made. His gut was warm and full of Spys fancy food. His uniform was clean and ready and his helmet was on his head. What should he do now? Battle was over, and the sun was beginning to set, but he was not tired. Perhaps, after such a successful day, he should celebrate with his team mates. Yes, that's a good idea. Boost team morale, Soldier, keep the team close and friendly.  
He locked the door behind him incase Spy decided to pay him another visit before circuiting the main base.

Scout had taken over the couch, legs up lazily as he flicked through old sci-fi shows on the dingy TV Mann Co. had given them. Heavy was hunched over his chess board, with Medic across from him, legs folded over. Soldier rounded near them, far enough away to not be intruding, but close enough to see the action of the game. He had wanted to learn how to play chess for years - a strategy game revolving around two tiny armies that is purely about logic and tactics? While he loved blazing into battle headfirst, he could certainly appreciate war games like this, but for the life of him he could never remember which piece could move where.  
Medic glanced up at him, hand on his chin.

"How are you today, Soldier?"

Soldier glanced up towards the doctor, whose eyes flicked from the board to Soldier and back again. Heavy did not move an inch, staring intently at the pieces. Scout didn't seem to realize any one else was in the room besides him and the TV.

"I am fine."

"Vould you like to play zhe vinner?"

Heavy slowly moved a piece forward, hand hovering over it for a moment before retracting it and nodding.

"No offense Doc, but I'd much rather fight a guy on a real horse and some real kings'n queens rather than plastic ones."

The Medic chuckled and shook his head as he moved his piece in retaliation, knocking Heavys over in the process. The larger man looks bewildered for a moment, before shooting a playful glare at the doctor.  
"We could teach you, if you vish." The doctor didn't look at him, an almost serene look on his face that bordered on a calm smile as he eyed the board, thinking several steps ahead. Soldier frowned a little. Games help bring up morale, and it _was_ a strategy game about war...He supposed he could give it a go. He dragged a spare chair a little closer and sat to the side of the board, eyeing it almost cautiously. So many pieces, so many names and moves.

"Perhaps we should start again, for Soldier to see."

"You're only saying zhat because you're losing, Heavy."

They whittled away a couple of hours, the skies outside growing darker as Heavy and Medic explained each piece and how it moves, strategies and tactics and how to get into the opponents mind. Solider felt like he grasped it well; he knew how to handle fights and tactical play-fights were no different to real ones. He would have to write down the movements though because he knew as soon as he stepped away from the chess board he would forget entirely. Medic even played a short game with him, though when accusations of going easy on Soldier started to fly, they decided to promptly end it. It had been a long day, after all, and Soldier did not like the feeling of being pitied. Heavy and Medic returned to a game of their own and Soldier watched, trying to think of a move before each the other, giving a little smile whenever they did a move that he had silently thought of.  
Scout yawned and stretched, sitting up on the sofa.

"Geez, you old guys still playin' that game?"

"Perhaps you should try it someday, makes you smarter." Heavy glanced over at the younger boy.

"Hey, if it ain't workin' for you, it ain't gonna work for me." Scout grinned toothily and leant over the back of the couch to look at the board. "You guys have been playin' for hours, it's gonna make your brains explode."  
"And television makes your eyes go square." Medic retorted. Soldier merely raised an eyebrow at the banter. Scout was right however - they had been playing for some time and it was getting late. Perhaps he should take a break. Perhaps he should find Engineer, talk a little. Tell him the truth. He had followed Medics advice; he had waitied and thought on it, and he still felt the same swirling, aching nag in his gut towards the man. Maybe even the last few hours of talking of tact and caution could help him plan his words, how to work around his stocky friend. He slowly stood, stretching his back.

"I am going to go for a walk now."

"Alright, Soldier." Heavy nodded, staring back down at the board.  
Medic glanced up at him when Soldier looked down the hall in the direction of Engineers quarters. When Soldier turned back and they locked eyes, Medic gave him a very small smile and the tiniest of nods. It was okay. Medic has his back. Soldier was safe and his friends were behind him. The reassurance was silent but secure and Soldier gave the duo (and Scout, by extension) a salute before promptly marching down the hall, the clicks of his primly polished boots against the linoleum both reassuring and daunting in the same instance.

His steps echoed, the halls surprisingly quiet. Silent, even, besides the sound of his own breathing. Soldier became acutely aware of a sudden jolt of nerves. Engineer. He's going to talk to Engineer on his own. In his room, just the pair of them. His breathing felt too hard and labored, his palms twitched. Relax, he had to relax. Engineer was just a friend. He was a nice guy. They could just hang out, ( a term that Scout often used. It was beginning to grow on Soldier), they could relax together and chat. Maybe Soldier could talk to him about chess. Nothing bad will happen. Everything is fine. Everything is fine.  
The door jumped out at him before he realized how many of his thoughts had run out in front of him, and he paused for a moment outside the door, unsure. He had to try. He had to try. He could do this.

He rapped on Engineers door loudly and precisely three times. He received an answer after a few long moments.

 

“…Yeeeeaaaahhhh?”

“Engineer? It’s Soldier. May I come in your quarters?”

“Suuurrrrre.”

Soldier paused at the odd tone of Engies voice, but opened the door and slipped inside, peering into the dimly lit workshop.  
Mounds of scrap metal, debris of old gadgets and half drawn blueprints were strewn across every surface, the walls lined with tools of every kind. Desks lined each wall and it was organized chaos. A few sparse windows let in moonlight, the facing evening disappearing fast. Soldier blinked, unable to see his friend.

  
“…Engineer?”

A hand waved from behind a cluttered desk from the floor. Soldier came into the room a little further and peered over it and within a crater of metallic chunks sat the Texan with his back to him, legs crossed and focusing intently on some machinery before him. Some paperwork sat next to him and his hard hat was off, smaller nuts and bolts separated into neat little piles in a circle around him.

“The Engineer is Engi-here.” He deadpanned before guffawing and breaking into mad crackles at his own pun. Soldier now saw several empty bottles of beer among the wreckage and half a crate of full bottles within arm’s reach of the Texan. He glanced over the man and noted the slight tint of pink across his cheeks.  
Soldier couldn’t help but smile at Engie’s raucous laughter and soft blush. “How’re you doin’, Engie?”

“Hooo…I’m good, I’m good. Workin' on some blueprints. C'mon, come join me.” He patted at some space near him and pushed a pile of rubber tubing away with his feet before shuffling over a couple inches. Soldier sat diligently, legs crossed the same as Engineers. “Demo was gonna help me with these but then Pyro started questioning him bout pyrotechnics and how to make fireworks and you know how they get. Boys’ll be boys!”

“Heh, yeah, that doesn’t surprise me.”

“But you’re here now! Youc'n lend me a hand, if y'want.”

  
“I’d love to.” Soldier smiled, before looking at the blueprints. Soldier did not understand a word. It may as well have been written in ancient Greek. The pictures made rough sense, at least.  
Engineer passed him an open beer and glugged down a gulp from his own bottle.

  
“What’s next?” He then asked, picking up a large amalgamation of scrap parts and turning it in his hands. If Soldier squinted, it looked similar to a part on the blueprints.

“Uh….that part.” He pointed at an elbow-shaped chunk of iron. “I think that welds onto the side. Maybe.”

“Mm. Yeah, that looks about right.” Engineer followed orders, grabbing the metal and hammering it into place. When Soldier said nothing, he justified himself - “It’ll last enough and I’m drunk. I’ll redo this in the morning, this is just ta give me a good idea.”

“Right. That black tube looks like its next. ”

  
A pink flash sparked outside the window, shortly accompanied by a soft bang and muffled cheering. Well, Demoman had just made a friend for life and a work placement as a fireworks guy for Pyro's personal amusement should he ever quit RED. Engie chuckled and took a drink.

  
Bit by bit, the device was made and beers were downed. Homemade fireworks flashed outside regularly in different colours. Soldier drank each time one streaked outside the window, just like Engie. It became some silent drinking game. Flash, bang, happy Pyro noises, drink. His gut felt a lot warmer by his third bottle, and by his fifth he was leaning against Engineers shoulder a little. Engineer didn't seem to mind. Good sign, he thought mentally through the haze of cold beer, very good. Engineer was relaxed and comfortable and things are going smoothly.

 

"After I secure this bolt, what do you think I should do next, Sol?" Engineer leant over him a little to peer at blueprints, lifting his goggles up a half-inch to see. Soldier swallowed a lump deep in his throat that he had never noticed before. Close.

"Uh. I think this part?" Soldier almost shakily (real men don't shake, damnit, pull yourself together!) traced the bullet belt with his right index finger, his arm almost trapped with Engineer leaning on him. He realised he didn't mind and swallowed again.

 

Part by part, the casing of the machine came together, pieces missing and not-entirely complete. The shabby sentry husk stood in the small gap in front of them. None of the internal mechanisms were inside it, but Engineer scrawled down some notes on the blueprints and separated some gears and bolts and wires into some intricate pattern that Soldier didn't recognize on the floor, ready to be put to use tomorrow. Soldier felt something soft towards the machine. They had made this together. This was the prize of their friendship. In a way he understood this lifeless contraption. It was not perfect, but loving hands had built it higher than it ever could have reached on its own; and it still had a long way to go and would go higher and higher as long as those hands nurtured it. Flash, Bang, Pyro, Drink. Engineer looked mighty pleased with himself and their creation when he pulled the bottle away from his lips one last time.

“Not bad for two drunk guys.”

Engineer looked great. No helmet, a barrier lowered not only emotionally through beer but physically too. Warm and relaxed. Sleepy smile. Plush cheeks all pink from beer. So good. Too good.

Soldier couldn’t resist.  
He moved slowly, deliberately despite his drunken clumsiness.

“Sol? What're-”

Soldier pressed his lips against Engineers, his hand cupping the man’s jaw. Soft. Soft and good and perfect. Shimmers of light burst inside Soldiers closed eyes and the muffled bang and cheers didn’t matter. Their stubble brushed next to Engineers perfect lips. Warm lips. Warm lips that tasted of beer. Soldier felt like a dying man given new life. His mind went blank. His heart did flips. His stomach could burst.

 

 

_**-THWACK-** _

 

 

Soldier flew feet away, a sharp smash of pain blooming in his cheek and mouth. His helmet skittered away at the sharp jolt and he landed awkwardly on his elbow in a heap of pointy junk. He looked up at Engie, naked eyes wide and staring up at the man.  
Engineer’s fist was raised and his eyes were enormous, staring down at Soldier behind his goggles. Somewhere in the recesses of Soldiers mind, He was aware of the taste of blood and the streak of crimson across Engies knuckles. His cheek prickled with pain and shame and for a few long unbearable seconds, Engineer glared down at him, teeth almost bared, fist squeezed tight so hard it twitched.  
His quiet voice came out as a low snarl.

 

“Get out.”

 

“E…E-Engie-”

“ _OUT!_ ”

Chunks of metal were thrown, teeth bared, angry roars echoing behind him. Fight or flight kicked in and Soldier scrambled to grab his helmet before racing out the door. An enormous wrench crashed into the doorframe and caused it to splinter as he scurried out the abandoned hallway and kept on running.

What had he done?


	6. Carter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"I'll rust with you, I'll rust with every one of you._   
>  _Nostalgic nights, have got me feelin' it's all,_   
>  _Gone, gone, gone to rust._   
>  _It's all gone, gone, gone to rust._
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  _Baby, don't keep me waiting, on this memory._  
>  _The years and tears have gone and turned you into what you see._  
>  _It's all gone to rust."_  
>  \- SPG "I'll Rust With You."

Engineer avoided Soldier for what felt like forever.  
It was easier said than done, living and fighting in such confined conditions.

After that moment, he sat in his room, dumbstruck.  
In his rage he had thrown everything at Soldiers swiftly retreating figure; the nearest wrench, empty beer bottles, some scraps of metal.  
The sentry husk they had built together. 

 

Oh.

 

It had smashed into the corner of his tool rack and a cascade of iron and plastic had showered onto the floor. Slowly, he stood, legs entirely boneless and feet sloppy, and he stalked over to the wreckage. The doorframe had cracked open. His beloved tools were unharmed, but the husk was damaged. He bent, turning it in his hands. The rubber tubing had torn open and split, the hollow metal denting sharply into a awkward concave.  
Damn, his knuckles hurt. He idly turned the machine over and looked at his hand. His second and third knuckle were sliced open. Soldiers teeth, he supposed. The sucker punch to the jaw to get the man away must have caught his right-most incisor. Engineer sighed and dropped the empty and somewhat useless machine into his near-full garbage bin. He supposed if he had knocked a tooth out of Soldier, or maybe two, the man wouldn't care. He'd seen Soldier take all kinds of damage while they'd been here and he just carried on with everything. 

Engineers shoulders ached entirely. A thick, fat weight settled uncomfortably in his gut and felt so heavy it almost physically pulled his body to the floor. He _hurt._

 

_Soldier had kissed him._

 

Soldier, the man who showed barely any emotions to anyone besides bloodlust and calculating silences, had leant over and kissed him. On the mouth. And he had punched him right in the face. Engineer sighed and rubbed a hand down his face, before tugging his goggles down to his neck. Everything ached.

The swirl in his gut intensified, jolting sharply and sickeningly, his lungs jumping as a hitched breath wheezed out of him.

The next thing he knew, Engineer lurched over his now-full garbage bin as his stomach emptied itself of half-warm beer and chunks. Engineer groaned, body sagging to his knees as he spluttered and spat bile out of his mouth. Ugh. Well, now that half-sentry was entirely useless. Throwing up over what was practically a symbol of his and Soldiers ruined friendship. If the man didn't hate him already, he would now if he ever found out.

Engie slowly sagged and turned, sitting on the floor with his back pressed to the garbage bin. His belly groaned but no longer swirled, his retching over. He sighed again, running hands over his mouth. At least none of his vomit sat in puddles in his goggles that still hung from his neck; he couldn't imagine of a worse sensation than that happening without him realising and then putting his goggles back on. He cringed at the thought and held his stomach a little.  
He ran a hand over his mouth yet again before settling it over his eyes. 

He'd punched his friend right in the face. Because of a kiss. 

He should have just pushed him away by his chest, or moved his head away and talked things out. But no, shock and surprise blasted through him and his muscles worked without him thinking. Soldier was a good man, he at least deserved a chance to talk. They were drunk, it was probably a mistake, things would be okay....but Engineer cursed himself. By overreacting and chasing Soldier out, yelling and hollering, Engineer had probably just lost a good friend and a damn decent fighting partner.  
Thinking about it, Engie wasn't even that angry. 

They had had a few beers, and they were good pals hanging out and having a fun time. A kiss was nothing. Harmless. Soldier wasn't hurting anyone or doing anything malicious. If anything, the kiss was the most truthful and honest thing Soldier had ever done; hiding behind his helmet and demands and need for order was his way, his mind calculating risks and acting on impulse for the best result. A kiss was nothing. A kiss was Soldier following his instincts and showing his feelings, feelings that Soldier never showed to anyone. 

Even though to most Soldiers mind was an enigma, he knew more than the others did. Even Engineer himself didn't know Soldiers mind through and through, 100%, Engineer understood it more than he let on.  
He really did.

 

Growing up on his dads ranch, there was this kid, you see. Sammy, his name was. His mom called him Sam-Sam, some soft nickname that seemed to stick. He worked on the ranch for years. He had seen Sam-Sam around a couple times, hand-in-hand with his mom as she walked him around their meagre down. They had never spoken, and Engie guessed he was pretty shy, but he seemed genuine and kind.  
Engineer remembered vaguely one summer mid-morning a firm knock on the front door when he was about fourteen and he tore himself away from his books to answer. Sam-Sams mom was stood there, hands planted on Sammy's little shoulders as she wore this overly-protective little smile. Alright.

"Hey, Carter, honey." She had beamed, lips pursed a little. "Is your daddy home?"  
Sammy didn't look at him. Sammy didn't look at anyone. 

"Uh, yeah, he's out back, gimme a sec, ma'am." Engie, _Carter_ , remembered scooting besides them out the front door and rounding their little house to the back; simple pastures with roaming cows and rolling half-fields of golden wheat trailed until thickets of trees hid the horizon and his dad had been laid underneath his favourite tractor, fixing it up. He never, ever needed to fix it up, Carter had already had his way with it and had it running smoother than grease-dipped silk, but his dad shared his curious nature. He called his dad free of the hulking giant and showed him where Sam-Sam and his mom was.

"Well now, Sam-Sam would just absolutely _love_ to be a farmer," His mom said once Dad greeted her, "And I was hoping that maybe he could help you out back here? Oh, you don't have to worry about him too much; just let him feed a couple of your cows or help clear up after 'em, he won't get in the way, will you hon?"

She shook his shoulders a tiny bit, her hands unmoving from them like hawks talons. Her pretty painted nails make Engie feel rather uncomfortable - his and his dads hands were usually coated in grease and muck from the ranch. Sam-Sam said nothing, and his mom didn't wait for an answer anyway.

"You don't have to worry about paying him if that's a concern either, he'd just love to gain some experience and learn how things work, wouldn't you hon?"  
Sammy, again, said nothing.  
Dad looked down at Carter for a split-second, their eyes meeting. Since Mom died, they'd been real close, and no one had ever imposed upon their relationship. It was strained, strange, but welcome, like a weary caterpillar finally busting out of its cocoon. They weren't quite super friendly with each other yet, but they were all each other had, and they needed each other. Love was there, buried deep until layers of machismo and necessity. Father and son and no one else. They had grown on each other strongly over the last few years, and having someone new come around was almost unthinkable. Almost.  
After a long moment, tongue searching for something inside his own mouth, Dad knelt down, squatting on his haunches in front of Sammy and not meeting his eyes.

"...Ya wanna help on the ranch there, son?"

Sam-Sam said nothing, eyes darting away, but he gave a little nod and rubbed his nose on his sleeve.

" 'Think ya can help with the cows, give 'em their food and keep 'em happy?"

Again, a little nod, nothing verbal.

"....Ya wanna start tomorrow, Sam-Sam?"

Sam-Sam finally met Dads eyes a little bit, instantly darting away only to catch Carter, then sweeping over the floor. A tiny smile prickled the corner of his mouth, but again he nodded, more firmly.  
Dad clapped a hand on the kids shoulder and gave him a warm smile. He tried damn hard. "We'll see ya bright and early then, kid, and wear somethin' ya don't mind gettin' dirty."  
Sam-Sam was a good kid. Way too scrawny, with a mop of yellow-orange hair and a spackling of freckles over his nose. His clothes always seemed a little bit too big and he never got in the way. He always did his best. He trailed onto the ranch (without his mom latched onto him) for the first day, wearing some torn-up jeans and some old flannel. He already looked the part of a ranchers boy. Dad and Carter showed him around the place, telling him this and that. _'That there's the cow pen, make sure ya always lock the gate. Don't go inta that one, the bull is in there and he has a temper. We got a horse over there, she's real friendly, but she's our only horse so she gets spoiled something rotten. Don't touch the tractor, that's my job. This here's the shed, the tools and feed are kept in here. That's the barn, we scoot the cows in there at night.'_ Sam-Sam must have been about twelve, nearly thirteen at this point, but his soft, wide eyes took in every sight of the roaming cows and each of the tools. His first day was pretty easy-going, all things considered, touring him around and introducing him to the animals. He tested the weight of a couple of the tools a few times, looking down at them in wonder with a little smile.  
He was smitten instantly.

After lunchtime, Sammy was charged with mucking out the barn while Dad went off to check the gates and such. Engie hung back, helping Sam-Sam on his first day. An hour or so of silence flew by, just the scrape-scrape-tap-squish of the pitchforks digging through the muddied hay and topping it into a wheelbarrow.

"...How're findin' it so far, Sam-Sam, you like the ranch?"

_Scrape-scrape-tap-squish._

".....Yeah. I like it."

His voice was soft and he didn't look at Engie but that was okay. Engie learnt fast, and knew even before Sam-Sam started working by his side, that conversation would be a little one-sided.  
The sounds paused for a fraction of a second, Sam-Sam's pitchfork faltering as he did a very subtle double-take in Engineers direction.  
"...Can....can you call me 'Sammy', though?" 

"....Sure, Sammy."

_Scrape-scrape-tap-squish._  


After a couple of hours Engie hefted the wheelbarrow out the barn when Dad came and found them, and the sun had began to set.

"Hey, Sam-Sam. Its gonna get dark soon. Why dontcha' head back to your mom before it gets too late?"

A little nod, a quiet voice. "Thank you, sir."

"Thats alright. Here." Dad dug in his pockets before he crouched in front of Sammy again , holding out his hand. "It ain't much, see it as incentive if you liked your day and wanna come back tomorrow, yeah?"  
A handful of coins, a promise of payment.  
"I know your mom said you didn't have to be paid, but I believe in honest pay for honest work. And I know you're honest, alright?"

Sammy's voice grew even quieter as he sheepishly held out his hands, double-cupped, an unsure smile threatening his lips. "...Th...Thank you, sir." He scurried out the door and Dad smiled down a little at Engie. 

"...He prefers 'Sammy', Dad."

"Sammy. Alright. You okay with this, Carter?"

"I'm fine, Dad." Engineer had smiled up at his dad. "An' I think he will be too."

 

They grew fairly close, as things go. Sammy came over the next day and worked. And the next, and the next. Routine formed. Sammy worked hard each and every day. Then after a year or so, he started to stay for dinner, too. He become a sort of step-brother to Engineer, someone he was comfortable around and that he could rely on; and Sam-Sam felt the same, opening up bit by bit, like edge of a warm ocean enticing sand into its depths. 

Engie threw himself headlong into all his work, a habit that stuck to him through the years, whether the work was on the ranch or in his books, eagerly cramming information into his hungry brain to prepare for college, despite his age.  
Sometimes, late at night, he’d sit up in the hayloft of the barn with an old flashlight to read up on mechanics from ancient old crafts. Dad knew he wanted to be an engineer, make up some new technology to help the world, but insisted the ranch came first. It was their livelihood and mom wanted them to stick together. So Carter snuck out when Dad was asleep or quietly watching the old TV up to the hayloft to make up lost time. Sammy found him there, once or twice.  
They scared each other the first time, the silence between page turns and soft breathing broken by the low creak of the opening door. Carter peered over, but nothing but darkness greeted him. When Sam-Sam’s head popped over the edge as he scaled the ladder, their twin yelps of surprise echoed off the hollow walls. Hell, in his surprise Sammy let go of the ladder and nearly fell, if Carter hadn't have grabbed onto his sleeve in the split second fright became concern. Hauling the smaller boy up, Carter let out a relieved smile, and Sammy's cheeks went a little red. Carter shut his book and shook his head at the younger rancher.

“What're you doin' up here so late?” He asked, once their breathing evened out at Sammy sat pretty comfortably beside him.  
Sammy slipped a backpack off and held it in his lap, fiddling with the straps.

“I sometimes sleep up here.” He half glanced at the piles of hay. “…mom doesn’t understand, so sometimes I sneak out to be here.”

“Dontcha get cold? Its kinda drafty.”

“I’ve started to bring a blanket.”

“Started?”

“…the first time I got kinda annoyed so I just left. I climbed out my window. Here is the only place I ever want ta be, so I just ended up up here, and I was real tired… after a couple times I started to prepare. Sometimes I bring a few things so I’m all comfortable-like.”

“Well, I admire your planning.” Carter had half chuckled before it died on his lips. “Your mom annoying you that much?”

Sammy let out a little sigh. “It’s tough. Sometimes she treats me like a baby and then sometimes it’s like I don’t exist. I don’t like her house. I like it here. You and your dad get me.”  
They both shared a soft frown. Engie had no idea what to say. After a strained moment, Sammy dug into his bag and pulled out a thermos.  
“…You want some soup?”

Carter smiled. “…Sure. Hey, I’m studying up on some engineerin’ stuff, why donctha test me?”

It became regular; a couple nights a week, the pair would sit up in the hayloft in the dark, flashlight concentrated on the tiny print of the pages as they chatted quietly with voices soft and echoing gently in the wooden hall. Sammy brought along a few snacks each time, and Carter started to bring along the blanket for him, along with a few pillows for the times when the alluring stars winking at then through the cracks and dips in the ceiling were too rich to ignore and their eyes refused to stay open. Curled beside each other in the cold quiet of the barn, they often slept with sides touching faintly.

 

He was sixteen when it happened.

 

The last few weeks, Carter drifted, his studies taking priority as school deadlines loomed. He still had his fair share to do around the ranch, but Dad knew he had plans. His heart was tied to cogs and gears, oil may as well have run in his blood. He was bound to engineer, and so Engineer he became. He buried himself in his tests and scores and books, determined that nothing would deter him from achieving a place among great inventors.  
Carter lay up in the hayloft, lying back against a pillow, eyeing the pages of a book he had read a hundred times cover to cover with unease.  
He had received his letter of acceptance. A university was eager to have him study at their facility, but it was halfway across the country.

He would abandon Dad and Sammy for a chance to reach for his dreams.

Sammy had worked by his side for the last few years, earning his place on the ranch. Carter and his dad trusted him and could no longer imagine life without the boy by their side. His place was always set at the dinner table, and he could handle any of the tools or animals at the ranch as if he was born with them in his hands. He knew each of the cows by name and helped birth new calves each passing year. Dad had even started trusting him with the tractors after teaching him to drive. Carter had learnt to drive them well before he had hit the age of ten, but cheered when Sammy had made his first lap of their main corn field by himself. They doted on him, accepting his quirks and oddities in their stride. It didn't matter that he was a little strange. He was family, and a good, hard worker. 

The soft creak and patter-patter of gentle feet climbing the ladder up made his gut clench. Could he do it, leave this strange but genuine boy alone after they had bonded so closely? He would have to, he would never get another opportunity…Sammy gave him a little smile as he peered over the ledge and climbed up beside him. He had matured well; still a little too thin for his body, his freckles still there, but his leanness and slowly gained into a light edge of muscle from all the hard work he had mastered. His slim and wiry muscles began to grow and swell with both pride and strength as he matured into an intelligent and gentle young man. However it didn't help that Carter had started giving him his hand-me-down clothes; Engie had always been a big-boned guy, with muscles hidden by a soft layer of chub. His old shirts hung off of Sammy shoulders like possessive ghosts. However their size difference only added to their strange dynamic - Carter was the older, stronger, protective big brother of the odd little runt of the litter they had taken in. And that was perfectly fine. They were a team. They understood each other. They were to be side by side throughout their lives.

Sammy was a damn smart kid in his own way. What he lacked in people skills, know-how of the tractors and machinery (which was Carter’s domain, thank you very much) and knowledge of the fields and grains within them (which was where Dad really knew his stuff), Sammy made up for it twenty-fold on his knowledge of animals. Before starting at the ranch he was already real clever, but by the time a handful of months had passed by, he could tell you enough to fill forty books just about cows; their habits, bone structures, names of species and distinctions between, how to approach them, gauging heir temperaments, timing cycles for breeding, birthing and milking, caring for calves, he knew it all. He was born to work on the ranch, out in the open where it was just him, the cattle, and his two closest friends.

Sammy smiled over at him before scootching closer and laying besides Carter, laying his head close by his shoulder.  
"More engineerin' books?"

"This is 'Advanced Applications In Robotic Engineering'."Carter nodded, tilting the book cover for Sammy to see. He was fine with Sammy nestled in beside him. It was kinda nice; a warm presence on a mild evening. Years had passed with the duo laying side by side and tonight was just any other night. Sammys mop of hair rested on Carters shoulder. It was growing out again, he noticed, Dad'd have to cut it back again soon incase he got it caught in any moving mechanical parts.

Sammy rubbed his nose on a sleeve that was a little too short and a little too baggy.

"Ya'll need s'more clothes, Sam. My hand-me-downs won't fit ya for long, I'm way too short."

"You're not short, Carter." Carters side was lightly poked. "You're the right size. You're fun-sized. But no, that engineerin' stuff looks dull." Sammy frowned, pink lips curving downwards. "There are barely any pictures."  
Carter chuckled. "It ain't about pictures. And there's a couple-" He flicked to an intricate diagram of circuit boards that covered a double page spread with 0.1mm ink drawings. Sammy promptly stuck his tongue out. "- what you don't like 'em?"

"Ugh. They ain't pictures, Carter." He pressed his head a little closer, resting it towards the nape of Carters neck as his hands flicked through a few pages. "Nah, I don't get why you read this stuff. It all looks like gibberish ta me."

Laying side-by-side up in the hayloft, anyone could have made the honest mistake of seeing them for close brothers.  
Or something worse.

"It all makes sense. S'just logic stuff. It's what I'm good at." Tell him. You gotta. Tell him now. "...Which is why I'm...."

Sammy looked up at Carter with large, murky eyes, something he only did when something was very wrong. He had only ever made eye contact a handful of times. 

"...I'm, uh...."

Carter looked away, back to the pages. He was going to break his friends heart. 

After a moment Sammy looked away, wriggling awkwardly to get comfortable within the straw. Carter frowned. He was acting a little weird tonight. But he supposed Sammy was a little weird every night. His tongue felt a little thick in his mouth. He didn't want to hurt Sammy, not at all. But he had to go, he was born to be an engineer. He wanted to make grand devices to help people, protective barriers to keep people safe, life-saving contraptions....he needed to chase his education, and he couldn't do that here. He couldn't do it with Sammy. He had to go.

A soft kiss was pressed to the side of his mouth, and as Carter turned his head, eyes wide in shock, another pressed to his mouth fully. 

Carter stared at Sammy, mind blank. That was a kiss. His first kiss.

Sammy stared back at Carter, face unreadable.

"...S-sorry, that was-"

"-Uh-"

"M'sorry."

"-What....What was that, Sammy?" Carter stared at him, wide-eyed. They had kissed. Sammy had kissed him. What? That wasn't right. This isn't normal.

"I thought...."Sammy looked away, sheepish. ".....You're my best friend, Carter. I love you a lot."

"Sammy, I love you too, but," Carter sat up, leaning on his elbow and half-hovering over the smaller boy. "- but, you're like my brother. We-We can't. We can't do this."

"Why not?" 

A million reasons. And none at all, really. Excuses swam lazily in Carters head. They were brothers. They were way too young to think like this. If Dad found out... _Christ, if Dad found out_. Growing up in rural Texas, everyone was a believer, one way or another. Some were pretty extreme. Carter had heard radio talks and fuzzy news reports of men getting beaten to bloody pulps for holding the hand of another guy. Dad was never...a devoutly religious guy, but there was a bible in the house. He never turned his nose up and homosexuals like others did, but he never really smiled at them either. He could never know about any of this. Who knows what could happen. Carter swallowed and looked away from Sammy, slowly letting out a sigh.

"...I'm leaving."

"I'm-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"No, Sam, I mean...I'm leaving. Pretty soon."

"Is it...cussa me?" Sammys expression looked fairly neutral besides his eyebrows upturning a little. Carter couldn't help but give a soft chuckle and the gentle question.

"Nah, buddy, no, not at all. A university accepted my application, they want me to go a build stuff for them."

"Oh...but what about me and your Dad, and the ranch?"  


 

Carter told his Dad in the morning. There were hugs and smiles, and eager packing. Time flew by after that.

Months passed by with Engineer barely noticing. He was excited and challenged and in awe of the world. Carter got his PHD, and continued to work. He got another. And another. His mind was a freight train, surging on tracks of education and blasting all barriers down. 

He would never lie. In his years in college institutions he played around with more than just machinery. Carter experimented. He bloomed slowly, gradually accepting who he was as each passing year allowed him to meet more new people of different kinds. Women were nice to him. Soft, pretty, kind. They smiled nicely at him and had dainty little hands, which he liked. He had slept with women. Colleagues who became friends, who he tested the waters with. Things were always okay with them. Never outstanding, but okay. Enjoyable. Looking back on it now, he almost felt clinical thinking of them in such a way, like he was grading them somehow. Giving a lovely little lady a review. '6/10. Enjoyable. Not my first choice.' Out in isolated little universities and colleges, he felt safer experimenting with who he was. He had slept with men, too, only once or twice. They were nice too; a little rougher, with bigger hands and lusty eyes. There was more of a thrill to falling into bed with a man, more excitement. He accepted pretty quickly that he was different. Women were good, men were great.  
He never told Dad, or Sammy. As far as they knew, he was a completely normal, straight guy, doing his best to get smarter and earn a living. He buried thoughts of burying himself into a handsome man by instead burying himself in work. It didn't matter that he liked men. That he preferred men. It wasn't important. He had more valuable things to think about rather than sins of the flesh. He denied himself frequently, ignoring his people he met and handsome co-workers, choosing to ignore his desires and focus on work. He could wait. Little touches and love didn't matter. He wanted to grow and bloom and make something beneficial to the world.  
By the time he was 30, he had 12 PHDs and had hopped from job to job, entirely resolute.  
Different firms wanted his expertise, and he never stayed at a business more than a year or two - the pay was always good, and mentally he was stimulated, but never enough. Each company wanted designs and manufacturers of every-day things. He wanted more. Why slightly tweak a machine that already existed? He could make anything run like silk, but he wanted to create new and amazing things that would help people. But he needed the money. Getting his degrees was not cheap, but his work since paid well - every paycheck, he sent half home to Dad and Sammy. Each paycheck he sent home, he sent along the details of where he was working, in case they ever needed him. He sent letters every month, asking how the ranch was, if they were coping, if the money was helping. Sammy initially wrote back, but as time went on, Dad wrote back more and more. 

 

One day there was a phone call instead.

 

He was working at a truck company at the time. It was his job to redesign and create prototypes for a new radiator so that the engine doesn't overheat in hot conditions, but didn't get too cold and not work at all. Carter stomached it - it was a job that helped people, sure, and he was working with his mind and his hands. The job appreciated his knowledge and paid him what he deserved. He had just left a military job to design and consult gun manufacturers. and part of him wanted to go back to that job instead, there was a lot more challenge. He had his head buried under the hood of an old Chevy when a co-worker passed him a phone.

 

"The doctor came over." Sammys voice was soft and hollow past the end of the receiver. Carter hadn't even said hello. "He says it's called leukaemia." 

 

Carter abandoned his work and handed in his resignation there and then. The train ride back took hours.  
He walked onto the ranch and it was already sundown. He always kept his house key on him. He let himself in and dumped his bags. The TV fuzzed quietly in the living room.  
Dad lay on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket. One of the blankets Carter used to take up to the hayloft. Mugs of once warm coffee sat by him. 

"Dad?"

He turned his head to look over at him, blinking a little. "Carter?"

"Hey, Dad." He slowly approached and perched towards Dads feet "How's it going?"

"I'm oka-"

"Carter!" Sammy appeared around the front door. Carter stood up again. 

He'd gotten tall; he was at least a head taller than Carter now, and still a little too slim to look entirely healthy. His arms and shoulders looked broader, his strength increasing with the years. His mop of gold-red hair was tied back into a short pony tail and he still had freckles all over his nose and cheeks. His inky eyes were wide as he looked over Carter. Immediately he came over and grasped his brother tight, squeezing him hard against his body.

"I'm so glad you're here."

"Hey, Sammy. It's okay."

Dad gave a sleepy little smile up at them. His boys, back together again. They slowly sat on the floor, by his side. Carter reached over and squeezed his father's hand.

"What's goin' on, Dad?"

"I'm sick, son. Doc's given me a couple months, max." Dad looked pale, and a little tired. He nodded at Sammy. "Sam's been lookin' after the ranch, he's been doin' great while I've been sick. You should be real proud."

"I am." The brothers bumped shoulders a little.

"Good. An' I'm glad you're here, son. It's real good to see you again. We missed ya."

"I missed you guys too. I should have visited more, I shoulda-"

"It's alright. You're here now." Dad interrupted, squeezing Carters hand. "C'mon. Everything's gonna be fine, boys. We're a team again."

Sammy made a pot of coffee and Carter flopped in an armchair. The house had been spruced up a little - a few new chairs, a new TV, the fireplace looked real spiffy and shiny. Old photos of mom were still on the wall, but a few of Dad and Sammy sat by them, and a few of Carter's multiple graduations too. It was good to see his money put to good use, he wanted Dad and Sammy to be happy and comfortable. The trio sat for hours, sharing coffee and telling tales. They talked of the ranch, and of the new tractors Dad had bought from the market, and how they got this bull with a real bad attitude problem a few years back. They talked of Carters work, and how he had worked on all kinds of things, trucks, TVs. The long-ass train ride over. They didn't talk of Sammys mom moving to a different state at all. They talked well into the early hours of the morning, voices growing quiet in the soft glow of the living room, until Carter looks over and saw Dad snoozing on the sofa.  
He looked old. Paler and grey and with little bags under his eyes. He was sick, but he let out a little snore and smiled in his sleep, and Carter smiled too. He knew what was going to happen, they all did, but they were together again.

"C'mon." Sammy nudged him a little. "Let's go to bed and let him sleep. He needs his rest."

Carter scooted his meagre belongings into his old room. Sammy followed him up the stairs. His steps still creaked, but his room was different. A different bed, with books and furniture inside. Carter glanced around with a soft frown.

"I moved in in '54. Couple years after you went to college." Sammy leaned on the doorframe, watching Carter glance around. "Daddy needed s'more help around the ranch and I basically lived here already. Figured you wouldn't mind."  
Carter nodded. It was fine, he had no issue with it. They needed each other.  
Sammy frowned, looking a little sheepish. He was uncomfortable. "I can leave, if you want. I know it's not really my home, it's yours."

Carter dumped his stuff on Sammy's bed before moving to him and holding him tight. 

"Thank you so much, Sammy. For everything."

Sammy slowly squeezed him back, arms rubbing up and down his older brothers back.

"Thank you....thank you for looking after him. Thank you for telling me he's sick. Thank you for..." Carter pulled away a little, looking up at the younger boy. Younger man."....thanks for being a better son ta him than I could ever be. He's so proud a'you, and you're what he needed for all these years. Sammy. You're the best." 

Sammy had tears in his eyes and Carter welled at the sad look the taller man was giving him. Sammys grip on Carter's arms tightened, and a harsh sob squawked out of him. "I don't want him ta die, I don't want him ta die, Carter."  
Carter clutched Sammy to him, pulling the back of his head for the boy to rest his forehead on his shoulder. "Hush, Sammy, hush, its a'right, I got you. It's alright." Sammy clung to him, sobbing as his shoulders shook violently. It was unbearably hard for Carter - Sammy was never an emotional sort, the most he ever showed was a smile and a few chuckles when he was happy, and a quiet indifference when sad. Having the taller man buckle and crumble against him brought sobs out that belonged to Carter. Dad was dying. Dad was dying. 

"It's okay, it's okay." Carter gurgled out between sobs, buried into Sammy's hair. "I gotchu. I gotchu. It's okay." Sammy choked against him, and the two stumbled, clinging to each other, to sink onto the tiny bed. They must have cried together for well over an hour. 

Carters lungs and eyes ached by the end of it. The sat silently, shoulder-to-shoulder. Sammy rested his temple against Carters broad shoulder.

"...I missed you."

"I missed you too, brother." Carter deadpanned a little, emotionally drained. He let a soft sigh come out his nose, then looked at the clock. 4AM. He laid a kiss on the top of Sammys head before pulling away. "C'mon. We gotta work hard tomorrow for Dad. You best get a couple hours sleep." 

Carter pulled his suitcase to the floor and left the room to get a blanket for himself. When he returned, Sammy was sat on the centre of the bed, looking up at him with soft eyes. He had bags under his eyes too, and they were bloodshot. He scooted over a little, and there was maybe enough room for Carter to squeeze in next to him.  
Carter laid his blanket out on the floor, and gave him a soft smile. "Get some sleep. I'm right here, okay?"  
Sammy faltered for a moment, but nodded, slipping under the covers and settling down as Carter did the same. They were not meant to be together. They were brothers. Anything more between them was wrong and strange and not quite right. Carter may like men, and may love Sammy, but they was family and that's all they would ever be.

In the morning, Carter made coffee and breakfast for all of them. Dad waded to the kitchen and sat at the table. He shaved with his usual straight-razor, and watched his sons with weary eyes. Sammy got to work straight away out in the fields. 

"How long're staying, son?" Dad glanced up at Carter as he fried some bacon.

"...Forever, I guess." Carter glanced back. "For as long as I'm needed."

"You can't do that, you got your work, your big important job!"

"I quit." Carter turned, serving the bacon onto some bread and sliding the plate to his father. "I quit. I'm here for you, now, the way I shoulda been for the last God-knows-how-many years."

"That ain't fair." Dad whispered, breathing in the scent of his coffee. "You were always made ta do something bigger, more important. You should be out there, makin' tanks and aeroplanes and gadgets ta help men reach space, not here, lookin' after me."

"Well that's too bad, cus that's what I'm doin', Dad."

 

 

Engineer slipped back into the role of a rancher as if he had never left. The ranch had expanded a little, an extra field of cows and a few more horses. The barn was full of shiny new machinery, and as he walked out into the fields after breakfast, Sammy was driving one of the smaller tractors through the corn as if he had been born in its seat.  
Carter hefted himself up onto one of the new horses and toured around the ranch, getting reacquainted with the old place. In the early months, Dad did what he could to help out on the ranch. He'd still drive the ploughs over the fields and help round up the cows. As weeks passed, he couldn't do as much anymore.

"Carter," he spoke up one day as they ate breakfast, "I want you to know that there's a trunk under my bed. Its full of things. There's paperwork, and some stuff your granddaddy left for you. It's all yours."  
His will was inside the box. The ranch would be split fifty-fifty between Carter and Sammy. They shook hands on it, and they agreed that it was fine. There was a folder full of old sketches and blueprints.

"My dad always wanted ta work with machines too, he designed loads of stuff. He said, before he died, if I had a kid that loved machines and was interested, that I should give 'em these." Dad explained. Carter flicked through the pages at the table, spreading the papers out. A few words popped out. ' _Organic-Matter Teleporter_ '. ' _Automatic-Targeting System for Rapid-Fire Artillery_ '. Blueprints, for devices Engineer had never seen. He was fascinated. But he buried them back into the box. Dad was more important right now.

 

Dad died in November, eight months after Carter turned up. They buried him under a big ol' tree that was on the edge of the corn field. 

 

Carter stayed on the ranch for three years after Dad passed. He moved his belongings into Dads old room and let Sammy keep his, and they worked well together. After a year or two he dug up Granddaddy's old blueprints and glossed over them, roughing up sketches of updated versions. Nothing serious. His hands missed building rather than fixing, and it kept his mind busy on quiet nights after work on the ranch halted for the night. 

 

Then one day a lady dressed all in purple showed up.

 

They invited her in, made her coffee. She needed someone who could build amazing machines to fight in a war. Carter argued a little, intent on turning her down at first; as much as the building of new contraptions could be fantastic, he didn't want to hurt anyone. Not seriously anyway. Miss Pauling, as she sipped her dark drink and leafed through manila envelopes, told him that a man she already had recruited on the team had devised a way to heal wounds. Together between them, if Carter could work on a few of their systems, no one would get hurt. It was an experiment, and he could develop wondrous things. He showed her his granddaddy's designs. Engineer was hired on the spot.  
For six months, he worked solidly on prototypes of the teleporter, dispenser, and sentry gun. Miss Pauling dropped by every other month to document his progress. On her second visit, she pulled out a large cellular phone and talked into it.

"Hello? Hello, Herr. Yes, I'm with him now. Would you like to talk, and I can give him this number afterwards? Very good." After a moment she passed the phone to Carter as he pulled himself out from underneath the shell of the sentry.

"Hello?"

"Hallo."

Miss Pauling had not forewarned him in any way. "Can I, uh, help you?"

"I am going to be your teams doctor. You can call me Medic, if you like."

"Hi, uh, Medic. I'll be the Engineer."

"Gut. Herr Ingenieur, the last few years I have been developing a device to heal bodily wounds, and Miss Pauling has had me working on a device to bring people back to life within a confined area. I have given her some of my blueprints and she vill be giving zhem to you. She tells me you are working on a sort of stationary healing area, yes?"

"A dispenser, I call it. It'll give off ammunition and things."

"Ah, excellent! Vhat I vould very much like would be for you to look at my blueprints and incorporate some of my designs into it, if you vill. My Medigun uses active fumes to rapidly heal injuries. If you could adapt your design to dispense these fumes in a small area, it could very much help us."

"You got it, Doc. I'll do my best."

"Excellent. I look forvard to hearing from you again, Engineer, I'm sure our vurk could help a lot of people, and our teammates will be safe wizhin our care."

"Yeah. Did she include blueprints for this bring-people-back-to-life thing? That sounds..." he felt breathless. Overwhelmed. Was this reality, where he could help bring people back to life? "...it sounds amazing, Doc, honestly."

"I have given zhem to her." Carter was sure Medic nodded over the phone. "Alzhough I'm afraid my area of expertise is in zhe body, not machinery. I have done vhat I can but I vill be needing your help, _genosse_."

"Alrighty. Miss P has given me a couple months to work on my machines and then, I guess, I'll see out on, on the front lines, I guess." 

Miss Pauling indeed gave him the Medics designs, and over those six months Carter barely ate or slept, entirely engrossed in making his miraculous machines. Then the day rolled around. He shook hands with Sammy, hugged him tight, left to drive hundreds of miles to the military base of RED. Sammy could take care of the ranch just fine. He held onto Carter tight, and although Sammy didn't want him to go, he gave him a sad little smile and stroked his arms a little. He knew things had to be this way.  
Miss P, bless her heart, gave him a map of where to go, and to make several stops on the way - not only pit stops for fuel and rest, but to pick up some of his teammates.  
Scout hopped in first, and they chatted idly, swapping stories. After a few hundred miles, they found Pyro sat on a bench with a suitcase under their feet.

Then along came Soldier, stood silently out in the desert. Engineer hopped out to meet him, shook his hand...Soldier was handsome, reserved, strong. Attractive. Engie had smiled up at him, but kept enough distance to not scare the man away. He had even walked past Medic when they reached the base in order to take care of Soldier and keep him calm. From the start, he had found the man interesting. He was kinda like Sammy, in a way. Quiet, with a clever mind and obvious fascination in his work. A good heart.

Engineer sighed, rubbing his stomach. He ached all over. He didn't want to hurt Soldier, not at all. He supposed everything had gotten to him, he felt so confined and overwhelmed and it came out of the blue. He shakily stood and trudged sleepily to his bed, pulling his goggles free as he went.  
He'd deal with it in the morning, once his hangover had faded out. He flopped face first into the bed and fell into a dreamless sleep. 

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------

 

The days battle came by and Engineers head was still bleary.

He trudged out his room and ignored breakfast in favour of a few strong cups of coffee. The others around the table chatted merrily and entirely normally. Soldier was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he was jogging around the base as part of his early-morning routine. Engie didn't want to think about the man jogging. Medic slid into a chair across from Engineer and lightly clinked his mug against the other mans. He seemed in a positive mood and it was honestly more than Engineer could stomach.

"Guten Morgan, kamerade." 

"Mmhph."

"Busy night?" The German smiled into his drink as he looked over the rim of the mug at Engineers goggle-less eyes. Engineer looked up with bloodshot eyes and a frown. He didn't know what Medic knew, but he knew Medic knew something. Had Soldier said something to him? God, he hoped not. He and Medic were friends, talking for long hours on the phone before coming to the base and chatting in the evenings about their work when they had free time. They trusted each other. He didn't need anything going on out of his control right now.

"No, Doc. I got hammered and passed out while buildin' a sentry prototype." It was a half-truth. The toaster popped nearby and Engineers stomach whined a little. "Remind me to never drink again."

The doctor raised a sharp eyebrow but said nothing. Heavy came by and brushed a hand across the doctors shoulder as he approached the fridge.

"Good morning, leetle men. Ready for today's fight?" He looked over at them and Medic smiled up at him in greeting. Engineer huffed and stood, refusing to look into the fridge in case his stomach decided to try and escape out of his mouth.

"Not yet. I'll meet you guys at the gate." He trudged back to his room to steel himself, and he could feel Medics concerned eyes on his back.

He did indeed meet them at the entry gate to the battlefield, tool box in his arms as he leant against the wall. It was an entirely average day. The team jostled cheerfully behind him, Demoman explaining something loudly to Spy about bomb-making, Scout stretching his calves out and using the Medics shoulder to balance on, Sniper quickly glugging down a drink from a canteen. 

Soldier was silent in the back of the room. He didn't approach anyone, and no one approached him.

The siren rang for battle to begin and they filed out of the prep room in messy spades, the Demoman and Scout sprinting forward, Sniper running to do his own thing, whatever. Engineer rubbed his eyes under his goggles and hefted his tool box up to steadily jog towards the front lines.

He perched where he could see across the main bridge and into the front lines of the enemy base, and set up his dispenser, then his sentry. And, soon enough, explosions started echoing from under the bridge and in the enemy base. Trickles of BLU started to run out, and fleeting images of their men appeared in windows across the small pool of water. Medic ran past behind Soldier, both focused on crossing the bridge as the enemy Heavy rounded the corner.  
It went on for hours, a stalemate of sorts. Despite Engie being perched where he could see a lot of the bridge, the tunnels beneath the bridge were in flux. Scout kept respawning, as did Soldier. Demoman ran past screaming multiple times as BLUs ran past, guns blazing. 

The sentry swivelled in place wildly, locking on and shooting any BLU that approached. Engineer growled lowly, shimmers of the BLU Spy fading in his peripherals. He clutched his shotgun, shooting as the BLU Scout leapt for him and catching the kid square in the gut and watching him tumble over the edge of the perch and into the murk below.  
Sniper appeared next to Engineer suddenly, resting on the dispenser and out of breath.

"...Busy day, huh Truckie?" 

Engineer squinted at the man a little, before lightly jabbing at his shoulder. When he remained himself, Engineer nodded at him. Not the Spy. He gave a slight breathless laugh and nodded, turning to shoot at the BLU Demoman over the bridge as the man set up some stickybombs. 

"Yep. Busy day."

The sentry turned and shot as the BLU Demoman got a little closer, reducing the man to a red splatter on the bridge. He'd take the tunnels from now on. Engineer was aware of Sniper reloading his guns. The man patted him on the back.  
"Cheers mate! I won't be too far, I'll try ta take out their Engie, he's a flighty little fucker."

"Aight, Slim, I'll be here." He didn't look as Sniper gave him a thumbs up and ran further down the wooden battlements. Engineer just focused on the bridge. He could control that, protect that. The others running around him didn't matter. His head felt heavy and full, his eyes tired. He wanted to crawl back into bed. He wanted to be away from the world. Medic ran past him to check on Sniper, then sprinted back past down towards the intel room. The bridge was quietening down, besides the glint of enemy goggles popping up from windows now and then, only to be shot away by Sniper. Explosions. Gunshots. Shouting. Gunshots. Explosions. Bridge. Gunshots. Gunshots. Shouting. Sentry Beep. Someone shouting for Medic. Explosions. Engineer was on auto-pilot, drifting through the battle.

Then a glint of translucent blue flitted over the front of his goggles.

" _Engie! ___"

A shot rang out. 

Something barged into him and suddenly he was on the floor, a thick weight on top of him, covering him.  
He dazedly look up and Soldier was on top of him, arms extended around his head like a shield. As quickly as his presence came, it was gone, Soldier slid off of him in an instant and had his rocket launcher on his shoulder, firing hard in the direction of the BLU Sniper. Scrambling for his shotgun, Engineer followed suit, firing at the little window Soldier was aiming at. It didn't matter if Engineer didn't hit; he had to do something, and the tricky assassin was out of his sentry's range. With one well-aimed rocket, a spatter of blood erupted from the broken glass and a rifle toppled out and into the stream below. Soldier lowered the launcher, placing it to his side and he caught his breath. They sat side-by side, awkwardly, silent besides their breathing and the background orchestra of gunshots and war. The Sniper had missed both of them. 

As they sat panting, Soldier slowly looked at Engineer from the corner of his eye. Engineer glanced back. The man's cheeks were flushed, his eyebrows drawn down neat. The poor guy was flustered and embarrassed and god damn gorgeous.  
It was now or never. 

Engineer rushed forward, grabbing the back of Soldiers head and as he tugged the man forward until their lips clashed hard, kissing Soldier fiercely.  
After a moment, He pulled away, hand still gripping the back of Soldiers neck. Soldiers eyes were wide, staring at Engineers. His cheeks darkened ever more, and after a few long seconds his confused, conflicted expression broke out into an irresistible grin.  
Engineer gently released the man's head and lightly bumped his chin with a soft fist. 

 

"Go and give 'em hell, sweetheart." 

 

The grin remained on Soldiers face as he kissed the forehead of Engineers helmet, leapt from the battlements and rocket-jumped his way through the smashed open window where BLU Sniper now lay. Yells of his passionate enjoyment rang through the BLU building. 

 

RED won the days battle. 


	7. Whatever This Is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Engineer and Soldier break the tension.**
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>  **Happy Valentines Day - Thank you all for sticking with me for so long.You all deserve love and kindness for the love and kindness you've shown to me over the long production of this dumb fanfic.**  
> 
>  _"I’m not like the rest or any other guy,_  
>  _It's the way we talk and the way we sing, about the universe and every little thing_  
>  _This feeling is staying, because my heart is blazing,_  
>  _It’s on fire and won’t go out_  
>  _Well I don't have name for it, been trying to find a name for it,_  
>  _I don't think there's a name for it, but it's kinda like being in love." -_ SPG, I Don't Have A Name For It

 

“It’s hard.” He huffed, hand loosely tracing his belly, standing beneath the stream and steam of the barely heated shower. His long legs extended out as he pressed his back against the clammy wall, a sheen coating his skin. Grime and sand washed over his lean muscles and down into the drain below. “It’s so goddamn hard…. y'know…? Just….Just being so goddamn awesome and winnin’ all the time. S'tough, y'know?”

 “Yeah, yeah, Scout, we get it. I’d bow before ya but I don’t get on my knees fer just about anybody.” Engineer chucked, a few shower stalls down from the boasting Bostonian. The boys ego was going to fill the whole base if he kept nabbing briefcases. “Besides, I don’t think you’d really wanna see me on my knees anyway, wouldja?”

 The Scout snorted and turned back around, burying his head in the cascade of water to block out Engineers question and hide his burning cheeks. “I dunno. If I was inta short fat guys with no hair, you wouldn’t be too bad. Or, ya know, guys at all.”

“You watch yer mouth, boy.” He threatened in return, half scowling half smiling at the taller lad. “How many times I gotta tell ya?”

“You called him short again, didn’t you?” Heavy was already rolling his eyes as he stepped into the locker room. He shook his head and began to strip. “Engineer is perfect size for fun, everyone knows this.”

“At least someone listens ta me.” The Texan beamed in return, grinning at the man’s enormous back.

“Is hard not to, the amount of times you say.”

“I think you’re compensatin’ for somethin’, shortstack!” Scout laughed.

“Boy, now, don’t make me march inta ya stall and whoop your goddamned ass.”

“Ha! Your accent sounds even dumber when you’re mad!”

“Why I oughta-”

“Leetle men. Please.” Heavy slid into the stall between them, his enormous bulk breaking the connection their playful glares held. “At least fight when not naked and soapy. Is not safe and if you slip and hit your heads I am not carrying either of you to Medic like dis.” The large man vaguely and sagely gestured to his massive naked form and Scout chuckled and got back to making soap bubbles in his fingers, no longer interested in listening.

Engineer glanced at the giant as the man lathered up his pectoral muscles with the ration-standard soap. “Huh, speakin’ of Doc, ain’t you the last guy he usually sees?”

  
“Usually.” Heavy sniffed a little. “Soldier asked for last spot after he finally came in.”

  
“Soldier?” Carter swallowed. Since that last moment….he hadn’t seen the man. Even in the waiting room for Medic, Soldier hadn’t appeared.

“I just saw the back of him. Did not look injured, but he came in covered in dust and blood and scrapes from explosions. I think he had a fun time killing lots of little BLU men, you know how he gets. Perhaps carried away chasing them all away and cheering and did not hear horn to come inside.”  
“Heh, probably.” Engineer idly scrubbed at his scalp. He briefly wondered what he and Medic were discussing…Medic seemed to know more than his fair share, if this morning’s eyebrow-tweaking and odd questions were anything to guess at. But maybe he was over thinking. The doctor seemed perfectly normal after the battle, especially once he caught a glimpse of Engineers own warm smile. Medic had said little, but Engineer would bet his toolbox that he knew _something_ was going on.

 

"Doc seems ta be doin' well." Engineer glanced at Heavy, changing the subject that no one had spoken about. "I mean, seems he always has so much ta do but looks like he keeps on toppa things. He must have a ton of paperwork a mile high to do."

 

Heavy took a moment to consider this, tilting his head a little under the stream. "...He has good days and bad days. He tries to have time for everything, but I worry that he forgets things sometimes. He is not always at dinner, he works late at night." Heavys enormous hand brushed down his chest for a moment, where soap had not yet touched.  "He is so busy making us into Gods that forgets he is a man too sometimes."

Engineer said nothing for a moment, staring into the drain. While Heavy was a good teammate, they had not had any long or meaningful conversations in the eight months they had spent on-base.

 

When Medic had approached Engineer with ideas for the Ubervalve, Engineer had obliged in making blueprints but was unsure how far the doctor would take the idea. It was during the long weeks in which Soldier had been avoiding him when things had come to a head with Medic. He had been missing battles almost entirely, periodically calling Heavy back in when he respawned and it had left RED with openings at their core.  He had spent countless nights strapped to his desk unmoving, undisturbed, calculations forbidding any other thoughts from invading his mind. Each battle missed meant their side grew weaker. Wounds were left unhealed. Morale was low. Tension was high.

Then that glorious day happened. Medic strode from his infirmary alongside Heavy.

Engineer had been cornered and Sniper had been by his side. BLU was swarming them in uncontrollable waves and things looked bleak.  Then Heavy yelled, and it was the first time he had yelled in weeks. And bolts of energy exploded from him and Medic was behind him all the way; at first Engineer thought it was some kind of suicide attack, that Heavy would charge in and explode in a gory mess. But the opposite happened.

Both his and Snipers jaws dropped as his skin grew harder than steel and the duo decimated each and every BLU in their way. It was magical and incredible and they were unbeatable.

When the battle was over Medic was straight to his old self, determined to see each and every RED to heal their wounds and to give them this gift. Heavy had sat, starry-eyed and dazed in the waiting room.  He was bombarded with questions and didn't answer a single one _._

_'What was that? What did Medic do? How does it work? What the hell, Heavy? Why was he keeping us from this?  Mmmhp mmn Phmn? Are we next, Heavy? Are you okay, mate? Is this why Doc hasn't been around much? Is it gonna be permanent? What's next, Heavy?'_

 Engineer had been leaning on the opposite wall, enthralled, but waiting.  He spoke up when Heavy didn't answer their tiny crowd.

"How did it feel, big guy?"

 

Heavy looked up at him and his voice returned. He swallowed and gave a sage nod.

"....He took my heart. And made it a hundred-thousand times stronger than I have ever known. I was connected with the world for a few moments and nothing could ever hurt me." Heavy slowly blinked and smiled at the Engineer. "Unbridled joy. Safety. Exhilaration."

Murmurs of anticipation rose from their shabby crowd before they each went back to waiting patiently for their own turn. By the time Engineer stepped into the medical bay, Medics smile was waning. He was ushered to sit and the good doctor made small talk. Carter was the last patient of the day and the long day of work for Medic was obvious. He looked tired; bags under his eyes sunk into his cheeks and his usually clean-shaven face was dark and unkempt. But Medic was still excited and eager to work. The surgery took under an hour, fitting the Ubervalve into Engineers heart.  As Carter laid there, idly chatting and not looking into his organs, he took deep breaths and waited for the moment Heavy had described.

The Medigun had been on him for the entire surgery. He was fixed up, and Medic lightly tugged on his arm to encourage him to stand. The switch was flipped and Engineer was winded; the world became fuzzy and he was filled with light and heat and power. Each beat of his heart was echoed within the universe and Medics beat beside him simultaneously. He felt like he was vibrating, and as he held up his hands they glowed red and shook with terrible, wonderful tremors. Carter could take on the world. He was in control of everything and anything and he was inspired and full of power and nothing would ever hurt him or anyone else again. And then it was gone again, as quick as it had come. Engineer gasped and wheezed, his lungs empty and heat shuddering as the high was ripped from him.  He bent double for a moment, palms on his knees to steady himself as his muscles and bones readjusted to being flesh rather than what felt like metal.

When he finally brought himself to look up, remaining bent awkwardly, Medic was leant against the Medigun serenely. He, too, was taking long but even breaths. He didn't shake and the edge of his lips quirked.

"...What in God's name, Doc...?"

Medic had laughed. His teeth were so white and his laugh so low and genuine. He pushed himself away from the Medigun and half-staggered to his desk where he rooted through the drawers for a moment. He came back with a small carton. He pulled out a cigarette and placed it between his lips, before offering the pack to Engineer.

"Don't tell Heavy." He had smiled after Engineer had taken one and he had lit up. Low bellows of smoke drifted out of his nose and his smile was infectious. 

 

Engineer looked up at Heavy now, watching the cascade of water run down the giants head as it hung under the stream of the shower. He was so quiet, so stoic out of battle. Unreadable at the best of times, and Carter thought he could read folks pretty good most of the time. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed and his eyes were closed. Before Carter could say anything, Heavy spoke again.

"He is a good man. But I think sometimes he forgets his limits."

"...He's certainly done us proud though, ain't he? Cus of him we're stronger and better in battle."

"That is true." Heavy leant back a little, stretching in the warmish water. He slowly turned to look at Carter with narrowed eyes and a look of concentration, and Carter, for a moment, felt almost like a man lost in the wilderness that had been cornered by a bear in a vulnerable situation. "...Do you find, sometime at night maybe, you can see the valve?"

Scout chimed in from behind them, towelling himself down. "Whaddaya mean?"

The pair in the shower glanced back, before Heavy spoke a little louder over the noise of the water. "I mean sometimes when it is dark, do you see the light it makes?"

"Ah, I ain't noticed it." Scout pulled his clothes on. "I fall asleep real quick so I don't got time to notice. I'll keep an eye out for it though."

Engineer scrubbed at his skin a little, thinking. He hadn't noticed it before, no. But sometimes he was sure the area around his heart felt hot and strange. It was a similar feeling to having a filling on an infected tooth - something was there on a part that was tender and delicate and it wasn't quite right but as more time passed you just kind of get used to the awkward throbbing that snuck up on you. He had half-heartedly, excuse the pun, put it down to heartburn or indigestion or something and, as of late, thoughts of Soldier.

 

As if on cue, as Scout headed for the exit, Soldier slunk into the shower room. Heavy was right - his jacket was soaked in blood, he was covered from head-to-toe in dust and dirt and his grin was the biggest Carter had ever seen.

"Hey, cadet."

"Jeez, Sol, you have a party without me?" Scout raised an eyebrow at him, smiling back.

"Affirmative. Next time you are invited; get Pyro to bring balloons." His grin got wider as he passed the younger mercenary on his way out. Scouts whistling could be heard echoing through the halls as he went.

Carter turned in the shower and leant against the clammy wall. He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at Soldier. He was fully aware of how naked he was and how little of himself he was covering.

"Well, ain't you a sight? You tryin' ta make us all look bad, Solly?"

 

Soldier did a double-take, a triple-take even, as his cheeks flared an almost neon red. It took him a moment, but he stammered out a reply.

"I, uh...." How desperately he wanted to say _'Hey, nothing could make you look bad right now, sweetheart'_ ,  but his tongue had unfortunately turned to lead in his mouth. His lips ached as the cut from Engineers knuckles threatened to split. "I just did my job. I guess. Private."

Don't look at his privates. Don't look at his privates. Don't look at his privates. Don't look at his privates. Don't look at his privates. Don't look at his privates. Don't look at his privates. Don't look at his privates. Don't look at his privates. Don't look at his privates. Don't look at his privates. God damn it.

Engineer let out this languid little chuckle before he pushed himself off of the damp wall, shoulders rolling under the stream as he went. He lightly rubbed at his arms, water dripping from his fingertips.

"Well ya did a damn fine job out there, partner. Ya should be proud of yourself. I am."

 "Mmn." Soldier looked away before turning his back on his companion fully, shoulders tight and gut thick as he approached the bench. His skin felt like hot coal dust was pushing through his veins and he sure as hell could not undress in this state - not with Engie right behind him. Not with _Heavy_ right behind him.

He hefted up his left leg and began unlacing his boots, desperately trying to focus on his laces and completely blocking out the sound of one of the showers turning off. Engineer slid into his peripherals. Wet. Naked. Soldier nearly tore one of his laces in two. Engie just casually towelled his face down, scrubbing the cloth against his short hair before moving downwards to his shoulders.

"Y'know, me and Heavy were jus' sayin' about how well ya did this round. Figured you were so into killin' you didn't hear the siren." He elbowed the other man gently under his ribs, a coy little grin pulling to corner of his lips. "We were gettin' worried."

Soldier swallowed and let out a very deep breath before gazing up at his teammate from under his helmet. Then it was Carters turn to swallow, goggleless eyes bare and open. Soldiers eyes were dark and serious, full of brimstone and heat. It may have just been the semi-heated stream of water and the coldness of the room but Engineer was positive the man was just radiating heat in all its purity.  He smelt of adrenaline and sweat and battle and Engineer smelt of soap and clean and wholesomeness. They stood, eyes locked. Soldier was full of ferocity and searing intensity and _want_. The room was melting away and it was just the two of them; war-torn and bursting and needy.  Engineer was bare and vulnerable, slick and easy pickings and Soldier was staring right through him; Engineer was almost gift-wrapping himself in his own teasing way, showing what was just out of reach if only Soldier had the balls to reach out and grab him. And by God did Soldier want to grab him. All those nights spent thinking about Engineer like this, soft and warm and thinking about Engineers _teeth_. Now Soldier wanted nothing more than to take control and take a bite out of the man.

 

"Heavy was not worried." Came calling from behind them, breaking the spell. Engineer tore his eyes away. "Never worry about Soldier. He is big boy, strong, take care of himself, hm?"

The giant still had his back to them, scrubbing under an armpit with his arm up and head tilted. Engineer let out a long breath. He slowly met Soldiers eyes again.

"That he most certainly is, Heav." He risked a grin before focusing on drying himself off.

Soldiers fingers were coiled tight around his laces, straining them so tight he was edging on giving himself tiny friction burns across the soft inner hinges of his fingers. He forced himself not to tremble as he yanked his boots off and stuffed them under the bench. He dared not to straighten himself, instead busying himself with his socks as he carefully watched his teammate from under his helmet.

 Engineer pulled on some boxers before he stretched languorously, body slow and smooth after the warmth of a relaxing shower and a hard day's work. It was hypnotic, each individual muscle seizing upwards as his arms reached above, his skin pulling taut over his softness. There were a handful of pretty little freckles here and there, the downy speckling of hair in tiny spiralling trails, and scars. Several scars, faint and translucent, but definitely there. Soldier swallowed, his mouth suddenly feeling full. He ached to taste, to run his tongue against the faint lines that hid on Engineers body like lines of stitching a seamstress would leave. But he wrenched his gaze away, fiddling with the hem of his trousers. It didn't matter if they had kissed, he couldn't do anything; especially not here, out in the open.

But Engineer was oblivious - or at least, Soldier thought he was, - as he pulled his shirt on over his shoulders loosely. No wife-beater, no undershirt, just his red button-up shirt hung loose and stuck in patches against his still-damp skin. Soldier was struck, immobilized as Engineer slowly gathered his things.  He rolled his shoulders a little, letting out a content sigh as something deep in his back clicked. He pulled his overalls on, leaving them loose at the hips, letting the straps and top half dangle, his shirt only half tucked in. He was a sight, and Soldier began to worry that something inside of himself would burst if he looked too long.

But Engineer merely slung the rest of his things over his shoulder, including his boots, laced together as they clunked against his back. His chest was bare for anyone to see. It shouldn't have bothered Soldier so much, but it did. With no shirt, no goggles, and no helmet, it was like Engineer was just - .....Soldier swallowed again. He shouldn't be thinking about this.

But then as Engineer slipped past behind him, he slid a hand nice and slow against Soldiers broad back.

"How abouts you come to my workshop for some beer once you've had a shower, Sol? To celebrate the great day you had today." His voice was chipper and light, as not to sound suspicious to Heavys clever ears (whether the giant was listening or not, neither man knew, but it wasn't worth the risk.) That warm hand slid an inch lower to rest at the small of Soldiers back. His voice mirrored it as it also dipped very slightly lower. "You can help me with that sentry prototype, again, if you'd like."

It wasn't a question, and it didn't sound the same as the previous invitation. There was an edge of something deeper beneath it. But Soldier didn't dwell, not as that warm hand vanished and the Texan headed for the door, smile evident in his voice.

"See ya later Heavy!"

"До свидания!" Heavy called in response, head hung beneath the stream of water with closed eyes.

And then Engineer was gone and Soldiers muscles unwound, one by one. He let out a low, shuddering breath and tried to ignore the feeling of Engineers warm handprint still lingering on the small of his back. He slowly peeled his uniform away, and slipped into the stall where Engineer had been. Before he could even turn the knob of the shower, Heavy peeked an eye open and glanced at him.

"...Engineer is good friend, hm?"

Soldier clunked his forehead against the clammy wall and drowned his thoughts in shower water.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

By the time the tell-tale rap on the door came, Engineers workshop resembled something at least semi tidy. The remains of last night's events were cleared away and the scrapped parts of the wrecked sentry husk were long abandoned in a dumpster outside the base, far from inquisitive eyes.

"Engineer." Came Soldiers voice from outside the door. "May I enter your quarters?"

Engineer chuckled a little to himself, smoothing some blueprints down on his main work table to at least give the impression that he was working. He called over his shoulder towards the doorway. "Sure thing, Sol, come on in."

The door creaked a little as it opened; the doorframe hadn't been patched yet and splinters split onto the floor from where the wood rubbed.

Engineer had tossed his laundry into a small corner basket; including today's overalls. He was back down to his boxers and open shirt, the evening sun streaking through the window in nearly-too-warm rays and bathing the workshop in golds and oranges.

Soldier came in and locked eyes with him, before his gaze darted away to the floor. He didn't dare look anywhere else. Not when Engie was so bare and close. Even in his boxers and that loose shirt, he may as well be entirely naked, his hardhat and goggles nowhere to be seen. He himself was in his non-battle clothes; his canvas pants and plain shirt.

Engie cleared his throat, leaning against this desk and crossing his legs a little."Look, I just wanted ta apologize for last night." Engineer rubbed the back of his neck a little. "S'pose ya caught me off guard. I wasn't expectin' anythin' like that and....guess my fight or flight kicked in or something."

A rare little smile graced Soldiers lips. "Its kinda funny, you being the fighter and me being the flighter, for once."

Engineer raised an eyebrow at him, goggleless eyes burning through him like jagged electricity. "I ain't ever run from a thing in my life, boy, and you'd better respect that."

"I know-" Soldier swallowed, quickly wetting his dry lips, ignoring the ache there. "You're one of the best fighters on this team, Engie." Soldier risked widening that smile a little. "I mean, I got a slice through my lips to prove it right now."

Almost absent-mindedly, Engineer flexed his hand and looked down at his knuckles. Guess the medigun didn't fix either cut up after today's battle. Though Carter wasn't sure if he would even want the cut to have healed so quick. Maybe a lingering memory of last night is what he needed. He glanced back up at Soldier, whose smile quickly turned sheepish before it disappeared, like a kid caught somewhere he shouldn't be and realising joking wasn't about to get him any favours. And, damn him, Engineer couldn't risk but smile softly at the awkward man in front of him. He tilted his head.

 

"...C'mere."

 

It took a moment, as if Soldiers brain needed time to process the request, but he marched two paces closer to the Texan. Soldier wasn't sure if he liked taking orders from the man. He felt torn; he liked to lead, to be the one in charge, but he knew that he really _should_ obey orders he received, like a good Soldier. A twist in his gut made him nervous. Engineer could give him orders, this once. Right now, Engineer could be his commanding officer, a higher-ranking man. The gap between them felt unbearably tight, but there was still at least five long strides between them. Engineers smile broke wider, the edge of his teeth peeking out from the corner of his lips.

 

"I said ' _c'mere_ ', you idiot."

 

A long breath came from Soldiers nose before the closed the gap, coming closer. When he still didn't meet his eye, Engineer raised an eyebrow, before raising his hand. The soft touch on his lip broke Soldiers resolve and he glanced at Engies face, finally. But he was too busy looking at Soldiers lip, a gentle thumb pulling lightly at the wound it had caused the night before.

"...I gotchu good, huh?"

"Remind me to never be on the receiving end of your right hook again."

"I could make it better, if you like." It was bordering on a question, Engineers eyes flicking up to meet Soldiers' as that gentle thumb rubbed tiny circles around the cut. Soldier felt like he was teetering on the edge of a great precipice, and though he was nervous, though he was frightened, he wanted to jump straight into the great unknown. He wanted Engie to push him into the great unknown.

It took a greater amount of effort than he knew he could muster, but Soldier let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding.

"If that's what you want. If that would make you feel better."

 If it took a moment for his brain to process walking a few steps closer, then his brain must have entirely short-circuited when Engineer kissed him, using that hand to angle his chin downwards as he stood on his tip-toes to reach his lips.

It wasn’t forceful and heated and spur of the moment like before. This kiss was soft and methodical and smooth - much like Engie himself. As he broke away, the Texan lingered there, still holding Soldiers chin, noses bumping.

It was at that moment that Soldiers brain must have decided to restart because the next thing he knew was that he was pushing Engineer into his desk and pressing their lips together, hands moving to frame Engineers sides on the wood of the desk, effectively trapping him in place.

Not that he seemed to mind or even notice that he was trapped - not when he was kissing back so warmly, lips soft and teasing, brushing the cut. Soldier felt like, for just this one time outside of battle, the world was melting away. All that mattered right now was Engie, and the way his lips were pressed against his own, the way the cut stung like a bitch against his tongue, the way that hand was trailing now down to Soldiers chest, the way his hips were slotted just right and - God the man was only wearing boxers and it was so goddamn warm in this workshop.

 

There was a tug at Soldiers clothes and the lightest of nibbles at his mouth, a phantom ache tingling at the split in his skin there. Engineer knew what he was doing, toying with him and testing his reactions as if he were testing the reactions of a new machine or contraption. Well, if Engie wanted to play, Soldier could play too. As if without thinking, one of Soldiers hands slid up Engineers front, slipping beneath that open shirt and stroking the skin of his belly, ribs, chest. Engie jolted and shuddered at the contact, not expecting it, and Soldier felt the tremor ripple through him. His skin was so soft, softer than he had even imagined, and he radiated warmth.  It was like a blissful dream, heat and comfort and nothing else even coming close to being important. Engineer was new and different and Soldier wanted to bury his face in the man.

He settled for sweeping his tongue against his lips instead, for now, and held back a noise of appreciation as his partner responded in kind, awaiting mouth sucking at his lower lip. Their stubble clashed a little, friction almost burning Soldiers skin.

 

His thumb found a nipple and he brushed it, making Engineer squirm - he bit down on his lip in response, silently hoping Engineer wasn't going to respond too roughly; the cut from last night throbbed and the thought of the Texans sharp teeth getting too busy there made his spine feel cold.  Luckily for him Engineers mouth moved to leave open-mouthed kissed against his jaw. A flood of warmth hit his gut when Engies hips pressed and rubbed up against his insistently.

 

"Bed."

 

"Okay."

 

The duo stumbled backwards towards Engineers bunk in the corner of the workshop, limbs tangled and stuff in the way and nothing was quick enough, damn it. Mouths and hands were everywhere, much too focused on the slow burning prickle of want gnawing at their bones.

The backs of Engineers short legs hit the corner of the mattress and he pulled Soldier down on top of him, a slight gasp coming from him as their hips met, Soldiers weight pressed against him just right.

"Nnghn," Engineer groaned, hissing as Soldier experimentally rolled his hips, "Play fair, damn it."

"Huh?"

"C'mon, I'm in an open shirt and boxers here, Sol." 

Soldier blinked as Engineer lifted the helmet from his head, that smarmy little grin appearing on his lips, just like it had the last time he had stolen his helmet, all those weeks ago. He tried not to shudder, a crack in his armour falling away. He may have been fully clothed but he felt naked, bare as his and Engies eyes met.

"There, thats a lil' more fair, dontcha think?"

Well, better bite the bullet. Soldier pulled away, tugging his shirt over his head and tossing it to the floor. He'll worry about being neat and tidy later, he figured, when Engineer wasn't trying to hide a look of absolute goddamn glee.

"...You trying to one-up me, Soldier?"

"Damn right."

Engineer laughed at that, twisting beneath his partner to place the helmet carefully on the floor, out of harm's way.  He then arched slightly, moving to pull his shirt off before Soldiers hands joined his, distracting him entirely with gentle little touches and warm kisses at his shoulders.

It felt wholly too natural, too perfect. Soldier felt like he was getting lost in Engineer far too slow but all at once; his tongue tasting honey and sweet marmalade and fresh water for the first time in his life, his skin so touch-starved for his entire life now finally finding something he didn't know he needed so urgently. Engie squirmed, shirt lost to the floor and hands gripping Soldiers shoulders as he arched, hips desperate for contact. He felt so warm all over.

When Soldier ground down against him he cursed, nails digging in a little. He was hard in his boxers, straining against the material and the friction was starting to make his head spin. Soldier growled, face buried in the crook of his teammates neck. He smelt of warmth and home and good and his cock was so hard in his pants and the air was too tight and the two of them were the only things that existed. Engie tugged at his belt and before Soldier could comprehend what he was doing he yanked his trousers and underwear away in one fell swoop and pulled Engies boxers down to press against him _hard_.

Engineers loud moan in return was lovely and Soldier grunted in response, hand coming to wrap around the pair of them as his hips moved without thinking, rocking insistently against Engineers heat. He moved on instinct, Engies fat cock throbbing against his own as he squeezed and pulled, listening to the huffed moans and eager grunts from below him.  Their lips clashed again and Soldier ignored the ache there that returned, far too focused on the way the Texan squirmed beneath him, hands fidgeting at his shoulders, hips pressing up desperately, mouth making too many little noises to kiss properly. Carter was drowning, engulfed in the inferno that was Soldier and lost in that haze he bit down, groaning into his lovers mouth.

Soldier hissed, hand gripping sharply in response to that cut jolting in pain. He pulled away, bracing himself with an arm above Engineers head as he rutted against Engineer, whose pink face and open mouth made his gut tighten. He'd ached for this for so long. His hips were starting to get erratic, his grip tightening as he squeezed his cock against Engies. He felt like he would never get enough, that without Engineers desperate touch he'd be lost. A vein thumped hard against his palm. He kissed Engie again, swallowing his needy moans before moving back to the crook of his neck and sucking at his pulse, as if to swallow it entirely. Engies movements were growing desperate. Their thighs were tangled, muscles clenching.

His orgasm tore through him like a shotgun blast to the gut; Engineer tore him apart, soul laid bare as he splattered against his hand and Engineers soft belly, throaty groan spilling from him as he buried his mouth against Engineers shoulder. He was sure he could hear Engie calling for him, voice hoarse and needy as more warmth splashed against his hand and thighs, but so much blood was rushing in his ears Soldier wasn't sure whether the room was spinning or not.

 

He shuddered all at once, muscles slowly unwinding and untightening as he laid himself down on his partner, messy hand slipping away to stroke idly, leaving streaks of wet in their wake, at Engies side. Soft, smooth. Muscles. Was he making a noise? He was sure he felt a rumble. Maybe one of them was purring a little. He supposed it didn't matter; nothing really mattered while Engineer was panting soft and warm against his neck. Then he let out a little chuckle, hot and gentle next to Soldiers ear.

Soldier would have returned it, had a jolt of fear not run through him - was Engineer laughing at him? Was his performance unsatisfactory? Was his body not what Engineer liked? He felt himself stiffen, shoulders seizing in preparation. Fight or flight.

But a soothing kiss made its way to just beneath his ear and a soft him followed it.

“Goddamn, Soldier. 'Mind me ta let ya kiss me again sometime.”

Soldier relaxed again, a held breath sweeping out of him. He pulled away a little, bumping his nose against his teammates.

“I just might, private.”

 

He was just as powerless in stopping Engineer kissing him as he was powerless in stopping himself smiling into it. Everything felt right, and warm and good. He wanted to stay in his arms for an eternity, to drown in his comforting glow.

They kissed long and slow, gentle hands stroking against backs, sides, arms, wherever they could reach. Where their skin met left ribbons of warmth, and in Soldiers hazy mind he became aware of how intimately they had slotted together. He could feel soft tickles of hair against his hips and lower, Engineers fuzz rubbing against the skin there - Soldier tried to groom himself at least a little, trimming the hair he had there down so it was clipped as equally short as the hair on his head.

Well Engie must have felt the contrast too, as Soldier felt him give a little wiggle and glance down. Soldier suddenly found himself embarrassed and he swallowed a little, pressing his thighs together and rubbing against Engineer in the process.

"Christ, Sol, look at you." Engie smiled a little, pressing his hips up slightly. He ground his softening cock against Soldiers still-rigid one."Still so hard. You got some stamina, huh?"

Soldiers cheeks reddened and his chest swelled at the compliment. He puffed himself up a bit, grinning. "Yes sir! I have the strength of an ox, the heart of a lion, and the stamina of twenty men!"

"Oh, so you want me to cum you twenty times, then?" Engineer had that grin on his face that Soldier had thought about so much - wide and hot and edging on sinister. He could have torn his throat out with those teeth. His mind went blank.

"I, uh-....I mean, if that's what you want."

His mind went more blank, somehow, when Carters mouth pressed against his cheek and he moved from beneath him, gentle hands guiding him to swap places.

"You lay back. Lemme teach you a couple things."

The mattress was annoyingly narrow but it only made Soldiers heart flutter as Engineer pressed so close against him, hips rutting together as they manoeuvred. Soldier sat back against the flimsy pillow as Engineer scooted down. He had to restrain himself from pushing his leg upwards against the Texans half-hard cock. It wasn't a very elegant shuffle, but Soldier couldn't help but feel his skin heat up at the view of Engineer so low down as he laid open-mouth kisses against his hip and stomach.

Engineer hummed with each inch he moved lower, seeming oblivious to the slick that adorned Soldiers tight stomach. Maybe he didn't care; he certainly didn't seem to mind as he mouthed at the short hair leading downwards. Soldier was shivering, his skin so hot and only growing hotter.

And then Engineer licked a long, slow stripe up from the base of his cock to the tip, eyes closed and mouth open. And his hand came up to squeeze gently at the base, pressure just above his balls. And the other hand stroked up against his thigh as Engies teeth brushed the head of his dick. Soldiers head span, almost winded by sensation.

His hand was moving slow and smooth like his practiced hands reloading his shotgun, his tongue lapping in gentle circles before Engineer sank down, achingly slow. His mouth was so wet and far too warm and Soldier arched blissfully, back almost lifting off of the bed. He hissed as Engineer swallowed deeply, the white-hot velvet squeezing at him.

 "Oh, that's a dirty trick." He grunted out behind tight lips, head tilting back. He didn't want to look at Engie's face - he wasn't sure he could handle it mixed in with the whirlwind of other sensations. He squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't bring himself to look at Engies gorgeous half-lidded eyes or soft pink lips or pretty little blush. he was edging on ruination already and feared that opening his eyes would destroy him from the inside out. He swore he could feel Engineer smirk around his cock - sweet Mary and Joseph that felt nice - and the other man's lips reluctantly pulled away.

 "Ain't no trick about it, Sol," his hand was wrapped around and moving and good Lord- "I just know whatchu need."

 Engineers mouth sank straight back down on him and Soldier almost buckled, fingers gripping in hard to the bed. A groan spluttered out of him before he could even think about stopping it. It was nearly cruel of Engineer, having such experience while he was so desperate to learn.

 "Y-you're cowardly, then, attackin' a man while he's vulnerable."

The edge of a few blunt teeth brushed the crown of his cock and Soldiers thighs squeezed the sides of Engineers head hard as his hands immediately flew to grasp at his short hair. Engie had just enough hair to grip onto and his mouth was tight and everything was so intense. His teeth, the teeth that could rip his throat out and he'd let him, they were so hard on his tender flesh, nipping against his most delicate spot. Soldier felt himself twitching against his damn tongue.

"Best not call the man with his mouth around your privates a coward..." Engineer growled lowly, before adding on, "... _Private_."

That was it. Soldier was shaking and knew full well he couldn't take much more.

"Engie, _please."_ He croaked out, voice trembling with restraint. He wanted to push Engineers face straight down, smother him against his skin but he couldn't, of course he couldn't, it would hurt and choke and everything was blindingly hot. But he didn't have to do anything. Engineer was slowly sinking back down, swallowing around him and God, that was his throat and _God_ Soldier was going to _die_ if this kept up _._

Engineers hand was squeezing at his base where he mouth couldn't quite reach and pumping in time as his head bobbled, his tongue dragging thick along the underside of his dick, the tip pressing against a sensitive spot just under his head and Soldier was so close.

"FFfffffuuuuuu-..." Soldiers hips shuddered and his lungs begged for air. Engineers mouth was electric, burning jolts cascading down his spine and curling in the pit of his gut like a hungry dragon. The way Engineer was bobbing his head, squeezing and pulling with his hand, Soldiers control was slipping away bit by bit. When he starting bucking his hips upwards, grip tight on the base of Engineers skull, Engineer only opened his mouth wider, keeping his teeth out of the way as his lover pressed into his throat. It only took him swallowing deep one last time to get Soldier calling out for him.

"Oh God, Engie, _shit-"_ He garbled, arching hard into the pillows as pleasure like a knifes edge barrelled through him, orgasm frying his nerves as he came hot and fast, muscles twitching. He forgot he had his hand in Engineers hair, twisting sharply as his hips pumped desperately against his cheekbones, too far gone in his haze of ecstasy to think as he filled his lovers mouth.

He let out a long, shuddering groan as afterglow began to settle in and the sharp pleasure-pain of too much stimulation ebbed like the tide. He sank back into the bed slowly, fingers unclenching in Engineers hair to stroke half-heartedly at the abused skin there. He was vaguely aware of Engineer swallowing, the wet sensation making his cock twitch almost painfully.  There was a slow drawl of warm as Engineer pulled away, a gentle kiss to the side of his cock where that fat vein hammered against his skin heatedly before more little kisses on his hips and on the soft parts of his thighs.

Soldier openly panted, head tilted back as he lay spent against Engineers pillows. His entire body felt exhausted, slick, hot and disgusting. He loved it. He loved it even more when he felt Engineer sneak back up and lay next to him, pressing against his side.

"How're you feelin'?" Engineer muttered, practically purring and entirely content. He laid his head on Soldiers outstretched bicep, cheeks pink and adorable.

"....A little strange." Soldier admitted, out of breath, but his hand skimmed down Engineers bare back all the same, a slight smile pulling the corner of his lips. "But never better."

"Good." Engineer pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of Soldiers crooked lips. "...take notes though. Ya'll 're repayin' me for that next time, Soldier boy."

"It's dinnertime."

"You dirty boy." Engineer openly chuckled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"No I mean," Soldier almost vaguely gestured to the clock on Engineers wall. "It's time for dinner. If we don't show up, they'll ask questions."

Carter stretched and groaned languidly, legs tangling with Soldiers. "Mmn. Guess so. Pity I don't wanna move."

When Soldier responded with an impatient noise and a stare from his peripherals, Engineer conceded, aware of how much the other man cherished routine. He chuckled as he sat up, and gave an affectionate pat to his partners thigh. "Aight, aight, come on then. Let's get cleaned up and we can pretend that we were just working too much ta notice the time."

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

By the time the pair and cleaned off and hastily thrown their clothes back on a few of their teammates had eaten and left the table. Heavy and Pyro were absent which was a little odd. Sniper was nowhere to be seen and left no traces of ever having been there, which was something that rest of the team had grown accustomed to.

It was Scouts turn to cook, which usually really meant that it was Medics turn to cook as Scout pretended to help. However as Engineer slid into his seat and the smell of mac and cheese hit his nose he couldn't help but smile a little. Seemed like the kid was learning, at least a little. Mac and cheese had never been Doc's style.

Soldier sat on his right hand side and ladelled out two globs of sticky cheese onto their plates quite happily before digging in, his stomach making low growls of need.

Spy raised an eyebrow as they sat in unison but gestured to them with his glass all the same.

“Busy evening, Monsieurs?”

“Yeah, Sol’s been helpin’ me out recently with a lil’ buildin’ project I'm workin’ on.” Engineer lied, stirring his pasta.

“Oh?” Medics voice piped up at the end of the table. “What are you working on, Engineer?”

“Aw, it's just a lil’ sentry, ain't nothin’ much.”

“If it isn't 'nothing much’, I wonder why you need Monsieur Soldiers help so much, hm?” Spy watched the pair of them over his glass, a teasing eyebrow raising.

“I'm helpful.” Soldier grunted, mouth full of mac. “I'm useful. I do more than you, Spy.”

“I cannot help but agree.” Medic leant on his elbows. “Soldier did zhe most in today's battle - zhe most damage, most kills, a very nice killstreak. I barely saw you today.”

Soldier let out a little breath. A bullet dodged, thank you, Medic.

“Do you forget that it is my job not to be seen?”

Demoman coughed from his spot next to Soldier. “Aye but it wouldn't hurt ta know you're on our side a little more, mate.”

“When did this turn all against me?” Spy joked, shaking his head. “ I merely asked Engineer why he would need Soldier.”

“We're a team” Soldier rolled his eyes under his helmet and ignored the urge to flick cheese straight onto the lapel of that stupid suit. “We look out for each other.”

“That's pretty gay.” Scout snorted from his spot between Spy and Medic. Medic slapped him across the back of his head, ignoring the way a vivid red crept up Soldiers neck to his ears.

“Don't be crass,” Medic grumbled at Scout. “Or next time you burn the cheese I will not help you.”

“I've had worse threats from you, Doc.”

“Oh, you want me to be meaner to you?”

 

Engineer shook his head, trying not to chuckle as his teammates bickered. While Medic and Scout threw half-hearted snipes back and forth he slid a hand below the table. No one noticed as he stroked gentle touches to Soldiers thigh.

He froze when Demoman leant over.

“Lads, I'm gen be doin’ some more 'technics outside with Pyro in a bit. You in?”

Engineer relaxed and visibly saw Soldier do the same.

“Uh. Well, uh.” Engineer stammered, not expecting the request.

“We're nearly done with the sentry.” Soldier bluffed, giving an apologetic shrug. “Tomorrow?”

“Aye, sounds good ta me.” Demo slapped Soldiers shoulder. “More the merrier.”

Engineer squeezed Soldiers thigh.

A lot had changed in a short time. This time yesterday he was punching Soldier square in the jaw. This time eight months ago they were meeting for the first time. He would have to thank Miss Pauling, should their paths cross again soon for seeing his potential and hiring him in the first place. He owed her a lot. He owed the team a lot.

His train of thought derailed when Soldiers hand snaked against his knee and squeezed affectionately. For a man of big, grand gestures, loud yelling and exclamations, a soft touch spoke volumes. He was wanted, needed. Engineer felt something warm creep from his stomach to his chest.

He was happy, and that was kind of a big deal.

 

Demo stood, sticking his fork in the pot and taking a piece of pasta for the road.

“I'll be outside, should ye need me.” He waved back as he left and Engineer bumped shoulders with Soldier.

“Maybe we should head back too. C’mon. That sentry awaits, huh? Night, fellas.”

A chorus of ‘goodnights’ followed them as, bellies full of food and muscles tired from the day's activities, the pair snuck out with Soldier leading.

 

Medic and Spy shared a glace when they simultaneously spotted the label stuck out on the back of Engineers inside-out shirt.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Soldier laid himself back down on the mattress, watching intently as Engineer pulled his shirt off and shuffled closer.  He'd kicked his boots off at the end of the bed and after a moment of indecision had laid his helmet under the bed for safekeeping.

"Scootch on up, I gotta lie down too." Engineer called over as he kicked his overalls away.

Soldier pressed himself against the wall as much as possible. For the first time ever, he didn't like how broad he was. His shoulders were too wide, his muscle too thick to let Engineer in his own bed. He felt like an ass. But, Engineer just chuckled before pressing against him, swinging his legs over the cot and on top of Soldiers so that they were squished together.

"There. That'll do."

Engie was practically half on top of him, their chests pressed to one another and Soldier followed his instincts. He wrapped his arms around the shorter man possessively, squeezing him close. It was a little strange, sleeping so close so another, but as a warm hand soothed down his stomach Soldier found himself drowning in a comfort that he never wanted to leave.

Outside, a small, distant noise echoed and a flash of light shone through the window. It was shortly followed by a faint cheer, and Soldier could feel Engie smile against his neck.

"Mm. Too bad we don't have a drink this time. They keep this up, I'll hafta buy more beer."

"Yes. I approve of that strategy. More beer sounds good." Soldier mumbled.

Engineer scooted up a little, pressing a warm kiss to Soldiers lips. It took the other by surprise, his mouth already half-asleep as he kissed back somewhat sloppily and sleepily.

"Mm...At least tonight no ones gettin' punched for kisses." Engineers voice was so warm and there was a hint of laughter in the back of it and it sounded like sleep was starting to close in on him, too. He yawned. "You owe me a punch sometime. Or maybe I'll just repay you in kisses."

"Mmmn. Both."

Engineer chuckled, smiling into Soldiers neck as the taller man drifted into easy sleep. He let his hand skim down his stomach again, positive the light little snores may have been content purrs as Carter was gently squeezed again.

Another distant rumble of a final firework lit up the room for a split second, before the workshop was bathed in soothing darkness yet again.

A faint shimmer of dark red beat within Soldiers chest. Its twin responded, a soft little light responding rhythmically inside the Texans heart.

But maybe Carter was already dreaming.

 

 

 

 

 

 

~End~


	8. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "There is no place I'd rather be, don't give me nothing in between,  
> Just give me sun drops in my eye, and let the rain-shine light the sky,  
> Do you recall when you were young? You never worried 'bout the sun,  
> Now you know better so you say,  
> Just don't let sunshine fade away." - Out In The Rain, SPG

 

 

 

It was evening by the time the truck pulled in.

The sky was streaked with crimson and orange, a vivid contrast to the white and pale pink clouds.  The fields were full; whitish flowers from the corn plants reaching towards the sky giving the air a sickly smell.

Sammy drove towards the edge of the field, the little green tractor still working fine despite the years passed since its last check-up. He pulled it to a stop, the tires causing grooves in the soft dirt. It had been nine years since the lady in purple had shown up and given his brother a job. He was thankful, in a way; Carter sent home ninety percent of his paycheck and the ranch was thriving like never before. Hell, Sammy could have retired a couple of years ago if his pride hadn't had stopped him.

The trunk trundled to a slow stop, dust billowing up in clouds from under its tires as it creaked to a halt in front of the house.

As soon as the door to the truck opened, Sammy hurtled from the tractor and sprinted towards it, leaping through the fields and batting the stalks of corn out of his way. The horses, startled, ran from him as he dashed through their fields. He vaulted over the fence the second his brother stepped out of the truck's driver-side seat and stretched.

 

"Sammy!" Carter called out to him before immediately being engulfed in a warm hug, Sammys still-too gangly limbs encircling him tightly. Carter was as broad and stocky as always and Sammy buried himself in his neck as his arms squeezed tightly around his midriff.

He hadn't noticed the man circling out of the passenger side until he was a few feet away. He had unloaded the bags before standing a little awkwardly.

"It's so good ta see ya again," Carter chuckled, a warm hand stroking down his back. "Been too long, huh?"

"Definitely." Sammy eventually pulled away, smiling, eyes darting downwards to the suitcases and bags. "But you're staying, this time?"

"You're stuck with us." Carter nudged him with his elbow before bumping shoulders with him.  "I'm finally claiming that old bedroom of mine back. I'll fight ya for it."

"Trust me, he'll win." The other man said over his shoulder as he settled the last case down. Sammy frowned a little, watching as he straightened up, clicked his back, and then wiped sweat from underneath an army helmet.

"Sam, I want ya ta meet someone."

 Carter was smiling the widest Sammy had seen him smile in the longest time. He moved to the other mans side, clapping a hand on his shoulder and resting against him, like he'd known him his entire life.  Maybe in a way, he had. There was no mistaking the way his big brothers cheek pressed into the newcomers broad shoulder like the two fit together. After a moment's hesitation, the helmeted mans hand stroked down the small of Carters back.

 "This is Dale. He's gonna be staying with us. If that's okay?"

Sam swallowed, and Dale held out a hand. After an awkward shake, Sam scratched the back of his neck.

"Hell, Cart, this one's built ready for this place, huh?"

"Don't worry," Engineer was chuckling and he gave a light nudge with his fist to Soldiers chin. "He's the best damn worker I know. I give it two hours before he's out there liftin' bales and tamin' horses."

Despite a slight twist in his gut warning that Soldier may have just signed himself up for more than he bargained for, his lover's warm smile and pat on the back melted those doubts away. Together they lifted up their suitcases and carried them into the house.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Dale had found a rather nice spot on the ranch that he liked to sneak off to, now and then.  He'd spent most mornings doing the chores that they had split between the three of them; he'd taken to an especially grouchy horse Sam had bought a few years ago and after some gentle lessons from Carter he had started to enjoy riding him around the ranch, making sure the cows were in the right place and checking on the fences to make sure none needed to be repaired and that the crops were growing well.

The two brothers hadn't seemed to really noticed that he snuck off now and then - or if they did, they never mentioned it.

There was a little spot where the fences met up, right at the edge of the main corn field, under a big old oak tree. He'd let the horse roam a little, because he never strayed too far and if he ever decided to take off and run, saddle-sores be damned Dale was almost excited by the thought of chasing after it at top speed, purely as a challenge for himself.

Sometimes he'd sit on one of the thick trunks that hung a little low. Sometimes he'd sit in the grass sprinkled at the base of the tree. Usually he'd just think.

The place needed a dog, he thought often. Carter would like that. They had a rather decent amount of money in the bank, if he did say so himself - Carter deserved a gift. Something to show he cared.  RED had paid handsomely and the ex-Soldier couldn't help but feel it burning a metaphorical hole in his pocket.

"...Guess I'll just have to spend it all on the best gift I can get, huh?"

No one replied and he leant more against the tree, looking up through the leaves under his helmet. The sunlight filtered down and the breeze stroked the smell of apples through the air.

"...Maybe someday." He let out a long sigh through his nose. The horse inched closer, pulling up tufts of grass and munching, nudging at Dales hand. He absent-mindedly stroked down the horses nose. The world, for once, felt much too big for him.

He let the sun set around him, watching the clouds move with lazy determination. The ranch really felt like home now, more than any he'd had before, and while he was happy with the hand life had dealt him Dale wanted nothing more than to make Carter happy.

It felt like it took a long time, his body rooted to the ground, but he stood and slowly slipped up onto the horses back. Together they slowly plodded back towards the farmhouse.

Dale completely ignored the warm tingling sensation all across the back of his neck that someone had been sat by him the whole time and was now watching him leave.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It was something sneaky, something that made them feel like ridiculous teenagers again.

Sam had already long gone to bed and the night was silent and littered with stars. Carter had grabbed a blanket and ran across the field with it wrapped around him like a big kid while Dale had followed him, piles of pillows scrunched up under his arms.

Carter had been laughing, snickering as quietly as he could, cheeks burning red with the thought of Sam hearing them - he knew he couldn't, of course not, but the distant thrill was still there. The ex-Engineer had climbed the ladder up first, blanket draped over his back like a thick cape while Dale simply threw the pillows up over his head, hearing them land softly in the crinkly hay.

It was a thrill, christening the hayloft.  The duo felt young and dumb and this was theirs and no one could take it from them.

Carter let out a faint little chuckle, still winded as Dale practically flopped down at his side, clothes abandoned somewhere in the old barn, hay stuck between his toes. Dale rolled, swooping the blanket over the both of them and curling in tight to his side, warm skin flush against each other.

"This was the dumbest idea." Carter chuckled, laying waves of little kisses across his lovers hairline. "You have the filthiest ideas, you know that?"

"I'm full of 'em, you don't know the half of it, Engie." He was practically purring, pressing his face against his partner's shoulder. He wriggled a little, scootching upwards to press in closer - in doing so his foot caught something; a dull ' _thwump_ ' came from below and they both peered over the edge.

The ladder had fallen, wedging itself between two bales in what felt like miles below.

"...Dale, are your clothes up here?"

"No. Your overalls are down there, too."

"...I swear to God. Sams never gonna let us hear the end of this."

Carter couldn't help breaking into a grin as Dale struggled to hold back his snickering, the two of them trapped up in the old hayloft until morning.

"The dumbest idea-"

"The dumbest."

"Christ, Sol, what am I gonna do with you?"

"I dunno. Stay with me up here forever?"

 "Pffft," Carter shuffled, getting as comfortable as he could with aging wooden planks as a bed. He draped an arm over Dale and let his eyes droop, as faint stars glinted down at him from the gaps in the ceiling. "I suppose one night up here is a start."

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Carter was elbow-deep in soapy water at the kitchen sink when strong arm wrapped around his waist. They'd lived here for  a little over a year now, and for Carter it was like riding a bike. Everything came back so naturally and the house was filled with warmth and laughter and the two men he loved the most. The ranch had become his life now, their lives, far away from the fighting. It was peaceful and everything ran smooth with Carter's hands running the machinery again. Dad would have been real happy.

He smiled as Dale pressed a gentle kiss just under his right ear. He could do with a shave, but the rough prickle left a warm tingle in its wake. Dale seemed real happy here, getting his hands dirty, learning the ways of the land like Carter had so long ago. Back home on the ranch, at last. It was where the duo were meant to be. Tonight he'd made a casserole and he and Sam had bickered over who got the biggest chunk of potato before Carter had stood and taken both pieces on his fork, silencing the pair of them with a grin.

Carter smiled as he was squeezed, a gentle hand skimming under his shirt to feel the soft skin beneath. Dale hummed near his ear and Carter could feel that soft, lazy smile he adored. They shared a long moment of quiet, as they so often did. They didn't need words. Carter usually could tell exactly what Dale was thinking before he said anything, now, and knew Dale, for the most part, could do the same for him. Carter wanted a hot mug of coffee right about now, and to curl up in a toasty blanket once these dishes were done, with Dale wrapped around him and probably snoring in his ear. Things were a lot simpler now.

 

“....... you'll marry me one day, won't you?”

 

Carter would be lying if he said he’d expected that. But he didn't falter in his washing of the dishes, swallowing a little as his mind went a little blank. The question had almost seemed like a thought that had escaped the ex-Soldiers lips, tumbling out before he could stop it. One of Dales hands came up pre-emptively to cup his own jaw protectively as he tilted his head away slightly, just in case.

“....only if Sammy is my best man.”

“Deal. But Frederick gets to be my maid of honour.”

“Hell, ol’ Doc’ll look killer in a dress.” Engineer looked back over his shoulder, lightly pulling his partners hand away from his mouth to press a kiss where an invisible scar once was, a lifetime ago. “But you'd make one heck of a groom, hun.”

That lazy, crooked grin split wider and Carter was squeezed even tighter, Dales hands possessively kneading the skin of his belly.  "We'd have to go somewhere nice for a honeymoon. Maybe...not somewhere so sandy."

"Nothin' wrong with sand."

Dale made an unamused noise in the back of his throat. "Dontcha think we've seen enough sand for one lifetime, Engie?" He huffed, burying his nose in the crook of Carters neck. 

"What, you don't wanna run around out there again? You don't miss all that heat and adrenaline?" Carter turned and pecked his cheek. "...I could always nab your helmet again, settle that old score of ours."

"Don't you dare." He rumbled. Carter felt his voice shoot down his spine. "I swear, after I marry you I'm taking you somewhere where there ain't sand for miles."

He pulled away, filling the water pot and turning it on to heat, getting mugs ready for that coffee he knew Carter was starting to want.

"So you don't miss it." It wasn't entirely a question. Carter wasn't looking at him, focusing on rubbing the sponge in little circles on one of the plates. Dale let out a hum.

"...Not entirely. The rush, sometimes. But things change, I guess." Dale leant on the counter and crossed his arms. "I don't think either of us need the fight anymore. Ranch needs us, we need it." He shrugged.  "I wanna be here, this is home now."

Dale watched as the smuggest look he'd ever seen pinched the corner of Carters mouth and he split into a shit-eating grin as he glanced over.

"....I tamed ya."

"Yeah, ya sure did." He slid back over behind his partner and pressed against his back. "You're stuck with me now. Trapped, forever. That's what ya get, you seduced me and now you'll never be rid of me."

"Aww, no." Carter chuckled, dripping with sarcasm and flicking his hands free of suds. "What'll I do now, huh?"

"Maybe the two of ya should get a damn room."  Sammy called from the dining table, a room away, the sound of his chair scraping away from the vacant table distant but there. "God, I can hear ya smoochin' from here."

Dale sniggered lowly, grinning into Carters neck. "He's jealous. ...So, wanna go get a room?"

"I think I deserve that coffee, first."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

~End~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A massive thank you to all of you who stuck by with me throughout writing this hunk of junk. This fic took the longest time but I'm proud of it. It saw me through finishing 3 years of project work, moving house, graduation and two jobs. It meant a lot to me to have people working alongside me as proofreaders and excited fans. I feel like this whole fic, as a project (if you want to call it that) that been such a big undertaking but has helped me improve so much, has helped me meet new friends and develop my ways of thinking.  
> I'm really, deeply sad to see it finally end. but, I think, the 'happily-ever-after' that the story has landed on isn't entirely the end - you shouldn't ever feel bad for ending on a happily-ever-after, because when the world is cold and grey the thoughts of ever-after stay strong, no matter what.  
> Things will always get better.
> 
> It won't be long until my next big project just like this, I'm sure of it!
> 
> Thanks for reading, and thanks for everything,  
> \- Bobbin


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